


Sift

by chimaeracabra



Category: Jake Gyllenhaal - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Family, Jake Gyllenhaal - Freeform, Jake Gyllenhaal/OFC, Romance, real person - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-28 15:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2737142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chimaeracabra/pseuds/chimaeracabra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Completely random inspiration not meant to offend or indicate anything about these actual, real people. A peek into the seemingly perfect life of an OFC and Jake Gyllenhaal. OFC begins to doubt Jake's commitment to her in moments leading to a life-changing tragedy. (Warning, there will be major character death! No, not Jacob.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing this two months ago and had to put it on hold while I studied for the MCAT. But there were times I stood waiting for a train where I just wrote on my phone until the emailing to myself became crazy. The plot for this story is inspired by a dream that I had about being at a carnival with Jake, and we had little girls. (Strange, because I think there's a movie he's done recently where his character took his daughter to a carnival and there was a carousel. However, I didn't see the pictures until a few weeks after the dream.) The other piece of inspiration came from some prompts I've read elsewhere, and further from the theme for a story about another actor (whom I deeply admire), which was written by a fellow admirer of said actor. I can't recall that author's penname, but the story had me in tears several times. I didn't really reach the groundwork for this story's plot until I had written a bit over ten pages over the course of about a week, was in the shower one afternoon, and it all came to me. If that little epiphany had not happened, this story probably would have remained plot-less and unfinished, and I wouldn't be sharing it now. 
> 
> *Please don't mind any formatting errors. My dialogue kept coming out funny when I was transferring this over from Microsoft Word. Hopefully by the time I put in chapter two, that won't be the case. I fixed everything as best I could, but I think it's just a problem with AO3.

           "We have three beautiful girls, why do we need another child?" I ask, tucking Jacob's hair behind his ear. He grips my wrists and smiles.

            "You know that I want a boy. I want a boy, Mira. I _love_ our daughters—believe that—but you know that I want my son, too...Please? Gimme a boy, Mira." His voice was always a dream to me, a comfort. His lips kissing my wrists patiently were so calming, I had to close my eyes.

            "I _know_ I've asked before…we talked about it, and we were praying for a boy with the baby we just had—"

            "And I have been pregnant enough for one lifetime. Jake, I really can't do it again...I love you, I just...I've had enough with pregnancy," I sigh. He stands, his hands gravitating towards my waist, the thumbs pressing into my hip bones just beneath my tank top. His generally vivid blue eyes fade to a disappointed ice, and chill me. He's upset. The squealing of Gemma greets my ears, and I know this conversation is over, but only for the time being. Gemma is barefoot and screaming in fear. Jake rushes towards her and scoops her up.

            "What's wrong, baby girl?" he inquires, genuinely worried at first. She buries her face into his shirt and clings to him.

            "Spider!" Gemma screams. I rush to the stove to flip a pancake that would otherwise have burnt.

            "Spider? Yikes! Want daddy to catch it for you, take it outside?" He comforts the girl. She's our first born, four and a half, her sister, Piper, three, and our eight-month-old, Gabrielle, was spending the week with her aunt Maggie—Jacob's sister—and her husband and kids. None of our children had been planned; they just happened, three beautiful little Gyllenhaals, micro carbon copies of what look more like Jacob than me. I never wanted children, and always told myself that growing up, I would never be a mother. I didn’t want that sort of responsibility and stress in my life, but when it just so happened that I found myself pregnant and as heavily in love as I was—as I _am_ —I'd thought really hard about it, and Jake had been the one to change my mind. At first, we were just on the verge of ending a five-month relationship when I found out and told him. It changed everything.

            We weren't going to break up because we weren't in love anymore, we were going to break up because we were both very much engaged and dedicated to our own careers and goings on. We barely saw each other more than a week out of every month, considering all the travel I was doing with journalism and photography. I had never considered cinematography until somehow, some way, someone picked me out and got me wrapped up in it. I had begun to make a little bit of a name for myself, moved to the East Coast, and bam, it just all happened.

            "Gem, your pancakes are ready, baby. Pips," I call from the kitchen. I can hear two little screams coming from nearby in the next room where Jake must be capturing an eight-legged intruder to try and get the girls to conquer their fears. I laugh and place some blue-berry pancakes on two separate plates. Pouring the syrup in circles, I close the silverware drawer with my hip. Piper comes rushing into the kitchen, squealing.

            "Daddy caught it!" she explains, tugging on my sweatpants.

            "He _did_? What's he doing with it?"

            "…Show it to us. He-he—to take it outside," she explains, hurrying to the island counter and hiding behind it.

            "Oh, that's nice of him. He saved it."

            " _Scary_!" she screams.

            "It's okay, Pips. It can't hurt you now. It's all gone. I have your pancakes—come sit."

She stays hidden while I place the plates on the counter.

            "Come on, Pips. If you still want to go to the carnival with dad and I, we've gotta have breakfast now," I explain. She allows me to pick her up beneath the arms and seat her at the table. I give her a big kiss on the cheek and pull her hair back into a neat ponytail for a moment, at which she complains and squirms before digging into her food. Jake makes his way back into the kitchen with Gemma in his arms, who's still clinging to his shirt with wide eyes, staring quietly ahead.

            "It's okay. It can't hurt you. I got rid of it," he reassures her.

            "I don't _like_ spiders, daddy. I wanted you to _kill_ it," she says, covering her eyes.

            "Ah, but that would've been really mean. The spider wasn't doing anything bad. We just took him outside. He's all gone now, sweetheart." He sits at the table with her in his lap and I place a fork beside the plate. Jake begins to cut into the pancakes and Gemma squeals, slapping at his hand and crying.

            "They're _mine_ , daddy! I asked mom to make them first," she explains. He laughs.

            "Can you share just _one_ bite? I promise I won't eat them all," he explains. He gives up and lets Gemma take full control of the fork.

            "Okay," he says, feigning sadness. Piper laughs.

            "Here you go, kid," he says, hoisting Gemma up a moment to let her sit on her own. He makes his way over to me where I'm staring into the refrigerator, deciding what I'll have, and he wraps his arms around me.

            "Baby, will you make me some coffee?" he mumbles, resting his chin on my shoulder. The slight stubble scratches my skin comfortingly and I hang my head to the side, picking up the cream.

            "We're out of cream, J."

He sighs with irritation, swearing just beneath his breath, quietly enough so the girls can't hear.

            "Let me run to the store and get some really quickly—will you still make it for me, please?" he asks, and his lips peck my shoulder a moment. I nod and he starts for the door, grabbing his keys off the counter.

            "Daddy, no! We're going to the carnival. Where you going?" Gemma interrogates. He laughs.

            "I need some cream for my coffee. I'm going to the store. I'll be _right back,_ " he promises before ducking out the door. I laugh to myself and start the coffee. Gemma and Piper mumble gibberish to each other from opposite sides of the counter, and beg me for more syrup, which I'm reluctant to give, seeing as Jake had already promised them both a cotton candy at the carnival later.

            "You two stay right there and eat while I get my toothbrush, okay?"

            "Kay, mommy," Piper chimes. I sigh and on my way up the stairs, I pass a bureau which is cluttered with framed and unframed photos of the girls and I, Jake holding them as babies, smiling with them in sunlit pictures in the backyard, asleep with Gabrielle on his chest a few months ago. For a moment I pause to stare at them, wondering where I'd be if Gemma never happened. Would Jake and I even still be in contact? Would we have simply gone our separate ways? I can distinctly remember being horrified when I got sick on the cruise Jake and I had taken shortly after Gemma—time that was meant to be spent reconnecting as a couple—only to discover that I was pregnant _again_ only six months since Gemma was born.

            The universe was trying to keep our hands full, as if they weren't already. Jake had taken _some_ time off between movies to work more on the producer/director side of things, just to be home to spend time with Gemma and our family. I couldn't believe how quickly it happened again. I'd thought we were being very careful—especially after Gemma. Apparently, not careful enough. We didn't feel that having a second child was really an option; we weren’t finished being very closely tied to our careers. I remember crying on the shores of Jamaica one morning, shortly after the on-board nurse informed me that I was pregnant, not seasick. When I told him, Jake looked as shocked as I felt, and I'd simply wanted to go home. I spent most of our vacation feeling sick and upset that this was all happening again. We'd gone to all the trouble of having Jake's parents take care of Gemma while we were gone, and our trip was ruined—at least for me—because I spent most of it throwing up.

            "Maybe…this is the universe trying to bless us with something amazing," he'd said to me, rubbing my back that night as I sat in our cabin, groaning with my head between my knees. We'd spent a bit of time on the deck, as if we were in Titanic, but as soon as I leant over the rail and my dinner came up, I couldn't bear to pretend I was enjoying myself.

            "Jake, we've _already_ been blessed with Gemma. The _universe_ just wants to make me violently ill."

He'd laughed and begun massaging the back of my neck with cool hands.

            "Mira…Maybe it's a boy," he'd said a bit more excitedly, and when I looked at him, I knew he wanted the child. He'd been hoping for a son in the first place. Deep down, I feel that his desire to have a son is the only reason I'd gone through with the second pregnancy. After not seeing Jake for a good chunk of my first one, because he was working on a film out of town, things had simply gotten so hot and heavy shortly after Gemma, and clearly we'd lost control of the situation. It had been as if we were strangers who were meeting for the first time, rekindled. I had spent so much time focusing on Gemma and focusing on my body, that it was nice for Jake to not be able to keep his hands off me when he came home again.

            When I grab my toothbrush off the sink and sigh, a spider struts across the mirror. Clawing up a wad of toilet paper, I'm quick enough to crush the fiend before it can crawl into its cranny somewhere on the ceiling. It then occurs to me that we might have an infestation. I push the toothpaste to the tip of the tube and start brushing, making my way downstairs to text Jake and ask him to pick up more toothpaste on his trip to the store. Gemma and Piper are playing with each other's hair by the time I make it back to the kitchen and pick my phone up off the counter. Instead of trying to text with one hand, I use the spare one to dial Jake's number. He picks it up on the third ring.            

            "Babe—I'm about to leave the store," he promises hastily, knowing the girls are desperate for their first day off with dad in weeks.

            "No, no, no, get more toothpaste, please?"

            "Kay. I'll be right there," he promises. The coffee percolates and I rush to turn it off.

            "Mama, can I take pictures?" Gemma asks, jumping out of her seat and springing up to me like a little flower, her dark hair tousled in my favourite way. She looks up to me with Jacob's iridescent gaze and I smile at her, pulling my toothbrush out of my mouth for a moment to respond.

            "With dad and Pips, yeah. You can take as many pictures as you—"

            "I want to take them _myself_ , like you do," she explains.

            "Maybe, baby girl. You have to be able to hold the camera and not drop it. Let me see if I can adjust the strap enough for you, okay? Come wash up now, girls." Gemma looks hopefully as I lead her and Piper up the stairs. After I rinse my mouth and get Gemma started washing her face, I help Piper brush her teeth. When I'm halfway through brushing two heads of hair and changing the girls' clothes in their rooms, Jake quietly appears in the doorway with the black mug that I'd bought for him on a trip to Europe a few months after we started dating. He leans in the doorway with a warm smile.

            " _There's_ my family," he says, almost dreamily, as if he can't focus, "I thought you girls got impatient and left without me." Gemma runs over to him and hugs his leg.

            " _I'd_ never leave you, daddy. I love you too much," she says. Jake kneels to embrace her, placing the mug aside.

            "Aww, do you, baby girl?" He asks, their words gently sweet and calming. He embraces the child, sweeping her up into both arms like she was still an infant, kissing her forehead lingeringly.

            "I love you, too, Gem, more than _anything_ in this world. You, and your sisters, mama, our _whole_ family," he says, topping her.

            "Do you love _you, too_?" Gemma asks jokingly as Jake picks her up and steps further into the room, placing her on his shoulders until she's laughing.

            "Do _I_ love me, Gem? Well, everybody should love herself or himself. Do you love yourself, baby?" He asks her, turning to stoop in front of the mirror so that she can see herself. She covers her eyes laughing. Jake pulls her off his shoulders and stands her on the chair in front of the mirror.

            "You love yourself, Gem. It's okay to love yourself…In fact, it's _good_ to love yourself. You're smart, kind, special, beautiful, my girl, and I'm proud of you." Gemma laughs.             "Will you do my hair?" She asks sweetly.

            " _Me_? You trust me with that? Well, I can try, but I probably won't do as great a job as mom does," Jake laughs. I glance over at him standing behind the chair, his and Gemma's reflections smiling. She gazes at him with utmost worship and unconditional love. She was a daddy's girl from the moment she was born. Jake picks up a butterfly clip, smoothing Gemma's hair through his fingers before parting it to the side and sliding the sparkly item in to keep the part in place. He pulls a box on the bureau toward Gemma, asking her which one she wanted him to use next.

            " _Mmmmm_ ," she mumbles.

            "Take your time, baby," he says, kissing the top of her head. Gemma picks out five more clips and starts handing one of them to Jake. He pulls her hair back behind her ear on the other side, where he hadn't parted it, and slips the rest of them into her hair at the back.

            " _Beautiful_ ," he says, holding her hand and leading her out of the seat.

            "I like it," she says, beaming up at him.

            "Go show mom and Piper what a great job I did," he says. I had finished getting Piper dressed and was just sitting on the bed, watching Jake bond with Gemma. Piper is nibbling her fingers, resting her head against my shoulder. When Jake turns around and leans against the bureau, my heart jumps excitedly. His hair has gotten long, and he'd pushed it over to the side, a five o'clock shadow spreading his chin, his crossed arms halfway exposed strongly across his chest.

            "He did it, mommy," Gemma says, spinning in her skirt and blouse, the boots I'd put on her. I laugh.

            "It's really nice, sweetheart."

            "I tried," Jake says, trying not to laugh.

            "I like it," Gemma says.

            "Alright, ladies, I'm ready if you're ready," he says. Piper had begun to fall asleep against me, which I hadn't noticed until Jake started towards us.

            "Does she need a nap? What time did you put her down last night?"

            "A few hours before you got home at ten." The girl had had a nightmare or two.

Piper starts and Jake picks her up out of my arms.

            " _Nooo_ ," Gemma groans, standing there with clenched fists.

            "It's okay, Gem, we can still go. You're gonna get there soon, don't worry."

Piper rests her head on his shoulder and yawns.

            "Cotton candy," she says, and he laughs. She wouldn't forget anything he promised her for the world. I walk over to the doorway and pick up the mug to bring it to the kitchen.

 

            Three merry-go-rounds, two pink cotton candies, and a Ferris wheel ride later, it's nearly three in the afternoon and the girls are jumping around like out of control little ferrets, Jake literally running after them while I fix up our trays of sandwiches and popcorn that they sold at the food court. When I turn around to start to the picnic table we'd chosen beneath the shade of a large umbrella, Jacob is nearby, carrying the girls towards me with such a big smile on his face, their laughter ringing in my ears, that I hurry to put the trays down and pick up the camera that's hanging around my neck. He looks strong, squinting in the autumn sun, beautiful, and fatherly, the man that I love. He pauses when he sees me positioning the lens.

            "Girls, look at mama," he grins. Their faces lift from facing the ground and they squeal and laugh in Jake's grip, waving at me. Suddenly, I cannot wait to develop this film. For a moment, I am reminded of the _thousands_ of photographs of my sister and I as children that are sitting upstairs in the attic of my mother's house on the west coast, and my heart beats harder beneath my ribs, and I hold back inexplicable tears, and I feel grateful. When Jacob makes it to the table with our daughters, they cannot stop laughing. He sits on the bench, one girl per knee, kissing each cheek back and forth, and back and forth, simply not wanting to put them down. I snap some more photos, taking my seat on the other side of the table. The girls finally catch their breath and calm down. Gemma leans back against Jake's chest.

            "Let's see what we got, ladies," he says, seating them comfortably on either side of him. I had begun opening the five turkey sandwiches I bought, having taken an extra one in case Jake or the girls were hungrier than me. Their bottled waters were already waiting to be opened. Piper's small hand reaches for one and she grumbles upon trying to twist the lid. Jake instinctively takes it from her and twists it open before holding it to her lips, the girl sitting up straighter over the table to make sure it doesn't spill. Jake takes a swig once she's done and starts pulling one of the sandwiches apart.

            "You want a turkey sandwich, Pips?" he asks, handing a bit less than a half to her. She takes the item and inspects it.

            "It's turkey, baby. You've had that before," he says. She's picky, and I hope the fact that I asked for no tomatoes and white sub bread on that particular sandwich will convince her to eat it. Piper takes a small bite, and upon deciding it doesn't repulse her, settles in to continue eating. Gemma had already taken the piece that Jake broke off. I start on my water and down half of it.

            "Looks good. Thanks," he says, unwrapping a sandwich. Jake's eyes wander to Piper, whose back he rubs a moment while eating before giving her more of the other sandwich. Gemma is humming between her lips as she chews, looking around and wondering which ride or game she wants to run off to next. We aren't eating for more than five minutes before someone approaches the table, and when I look up, it's a pair of kids, probably no older than sixteen, a guy with long red hair and a girl with dimples and a pixie cut a head shorter, standing beside him.

            "We don't want to interrupt, but oh my god, your family is so beautiful. Would it be okay if we can get an autograph or picture?" the girl asks, turning to Jake. The two of them look mesmerized as Jake pauses in eating to look up at them. Deep down, I'm disappointed to be interrupted, but he shakes his head for yes and hastily wipes his mouth before standing up from between the girls.

            "Hi," the girl chimes, waving at Piper and Gemma. The girls stare somewhat blankly with their mouths full of food as they watch their father step out from under the umbrella to take a photo with his fans. Gemma waves nonetheless and says hi.

            "You kids enjoying the carnival?" Jake asks amicably.

            "I thought you were _awesome_ in Jarhead, man, for real," the redhead grins, clutching his skateboard nervously as the girl hands him her iPhone. They position themselves on either side of Jake and the girl specifically asks him to take the picture.

            "Thank you, _thank you._ Normally, I wouldn't do this while I'm with my family, but you were really polite. Sure, I’ll take this for you." And I can't see his smile as he takes the picture, his back to me. The girl asks for a hug and he laughs, but allows her to make this gesture, even in front of me, hugging her back as if he'd met her before.

            "You are _so_ lucky. This man is a keeper, Mrs. Gyllenhaal. Thank you _so_ much."

And I laugh, and Jake sends me an interesting gaze that I can't quite place. We are not married. Once they start to walk away, Jake apologizes to me, gazing after them only a moment to wave kindly. I'm surprised that this hasn't happened all day until now.

            "Hmmm, they were kids. They couldn't help it, but maybe they should've known better," I say, finishing my sandwich.

            "Daddy, who was that?" Piper asks unsurely.

            "Just some people who liked me in a movie. Don't worry about it," he says, kissing the top of her head. But now more people have noticed Jake, and as he's kissing Piper's head and looking around, we both know we're not staying much longer.

            "Girls, what do you want to do next?"

            "Wanna go on the wheel again," Gemma says, gripping Jake's arm and looking up at him with wide eyes full of excitement. He laughs.

            "We just ate those giant sandwiches, kiddo. Maybe we should do something different. How about a game?"

Gemma reaches for another sandwich. Jake unwraps it and gives her half.

            "Eat that half first. If you're still hungry, you can have the other."

Children had a tendency to waste food. Jake gazes across the table at me as I start on another water bottle.

            "Mrs.," he says quietly with a sly grin, the girls' eyes wandering around to other attractions. I laugh through my nose. It isn't that we haven't talked about marriage before, but we hadn't really had the time to seriously consider it, even after having Gemma. Part of me believes that Jacob has doubts, maybe even in himself. In times where I find myself exhausted, I wonder if I simply had the girls to keep him around. I close my eyes a long moment and try to shake the thought. _Why would he be leaving when he wants another child?_

            "Has a bit of a ring to it," I say jokingly. Piper stands up and walks around the table to me.

            "Mommy, pee pee." Each and every girl has her father's gaze, and as she presses her small hands upon my leg, I am smitten all over again. She bites her bottom lip.

            "Gemma, you too. Let's go to the bathroom before we get on anymore rides."

Gemma starts towards me.

            "I'll wait here," Jake promises, and I start in the direction of two signs not far in the distance. Having picked Piper up, there's a familiar weight on my hip. She's staring over my shoulder, waving at her father. Gemma pauses to pick up a popped balloon.

            "Put it down. We don't know whose that was," I say instinctively. Gemma skips ahead of me to the women's room, the green polyester still in her hand.

            "Gem."

I help Piper onto the toilet, Gem next, and when I have them washing their hands at the sink, someone comes into the restroom laughing excitedly.

            "Jake _fucking_ Gyllenhaal," says the voice of some blonde whose eyeliner is too heavy when I glance at her reflection in the mirror. She spots my girls and gasps before apologizing nervously, the girl who had come in with her squealing just the same. And then I know that Jake is probably attracting a crowd (unintentionally) at our table outside. When I come out of the bathroom, he's already holding the day pack I'd brought along, our unfinished water bottles stowed away inside. He had tipped the bill of his hat down in an attempt to be less noticeable. I make my way towards him as the girls begin running for him. When I'm near enough, he presses his lips close to my ear and speaks quietly so the girls don't hear.

            "We should go soon. People are starting to recognize me."

We had been determined not to let this happen, but knew it would be inevitable.

            "Just a half hour more or so. They've been waiting for this for _weeks_ ," I respond. Jake pulls a hand through my hair and I tilt my head to the side, hiding his face while we share a kiss. Gemma coos and I feel small hands on my legs as she and Piper stand on either side of us. We start towards an easy-looking game which involves throwing balls at a target. Jake hoists Piper up and holds her closer to the target while I hand her balls. The man running the game recognizes me and recognizes Jake, but doesn't try to make a big deal out of it, lest more people start towards us.

            "I think that's cheating though, Mr. Gyllenhaal," he says quietly as he leans further over the exhibit to hold Piper even closer to the target. She's too busy aiming to pay attention to the conversation on the side. Jake laughs.

            "She's going to cry if she doesn't win something, man," he whispers. Gemma had taken five shots, one of which was a bull's eye, and the man pulls down a large Tweety Bird and hands him to her. Gemma's smile is enormous as she holds it up to me and I congratulate her. Piper stops focusing to stare at Gemma's prize, and her nose wrinkles in that tell-tale about-to-cry way that I am all too familiar with. She drops the ball and wriggles in Jake's arms. He transitions her back to rest against his chest, folding his arms under her legs.

            "What's wrong?" he asks sweetly. She starts pointing to Gemma's toy and begins to cry. She hadn't made a perfect shot in her five attempts. The man running the game tells her she did a great job and grabs her a Marvin the Martian that's just as big as Gemma's Tweety Bird. She holds the toy as Jake transfers her to his hip.

            "See that? You won something, too!"

Slowly, she calms down, but continues to stare at Gemma's prize.

            "Listen, thank you for being so cool about this," Jake says to the man, whose hand he shakes.

            "Oh, it was my pleasure Jake. I love your work. I really do."

            "Thank you," Jake responds genuinely.

            "But I want _that_ one," Piper grumbles. The man reaches for the same toy amongst a myriad of them and switches out Piper's Marvin for Tweety. Piper smiles and clutches the toy possessively. We leave laughing. Neither of the girls had really played well enough to win the bigger prizes, the man simply wanted to make the girls happy when he realized who we were. Jake puts Piper down so she can walk between us where Gemma is already holding my hand. We come across a clown handing out candy to a pack of children, parents watching nearby. Gemma hands me her stuffed bird and runs to make her way through the crowd for a lollipop. Piper stops dead in her tracks before attempting to hand her toy to Jake. He takes it, but grabs her by the back of the shirt collar when she tries to run after Gemma. He picks her up.

            "Ah ah ah! _No way_. You're going to get trampled in there—Gem," he calls, but she's already about front center when the clown hands her some candy and a blue balloon dog. Piper begins to cry, leaning forward in an attempt to get out of Jake's grasp. He stoops down to wrap his arm around her.

            "Just be patient. Your sister got you some candy, too," he promises. She drops herself bodily, slipping out of his grasp for only a moment. Gemma makes her way back to me and I lean down to ask her to give a piece of candy to her sister. She's reluctant at first, before handing a candy bar to Piper, whose hand is already outstretched.

            "Girls, that's enough sweet stuff for one day. You had pancakes for breakfast, cotton candy. When we have dinner, you're going to have something healthy."

Gemma grumbles and unwraps a lollipop, shoving it into her mouth before I can take it away. I sigh and Jake and I decide it's time to leave. When we make it out to the lot, it's as if on cue that a bunch of cameras begin flashing in our faces. It wasn't like I didn't know this was coming, but I can see that Jacob is visibly irritated as he moves to the other side of Gemma, shielding the three of us as best he can from the cameras at his left. Someone tries to ask Gemma a question and she stares up at a man holding a camera. He asks her how old she is, what she was doing at the carnival, and Jake turns to look at him and ask him to please not speak to her. The paparazzo ignores Jake and starts hounding me.

            "You getting married soon? …He doesn't wanna marry you? You've got how many—one, two, three kids with Jake Gyllenhaal already, right?" I ignore him and pick Piper up, and Jake grabs Gemma's hand as he speeds up walking, before deciding it's better to just pick her up, too.

            "Where's the baby? You just had his baby, didn't you, Mira? Hey lady, I'm talking to _you_!"

            "Excuse me— _stop_. I'm just trying to enjoy a nice day with my family," Jake explains impatiently. We make it to the car, each tucking our girl into their seats in the back. I pull my keys out of my pocket and start for the driver's seat. Jake asks someone to take a step back, his voice verging on screaming.

            "These are my _kids_. My god, have some mercy," I hear him say before closing my car door. The flashing does not relent, regardless, and as I start the car, I can finally hear Jacob yell at someone who seems unconcerned as they snap pictures through the back window, both Gemma and Piper staring out at the camera, looking a little bit confused. Jake physically shoves the guy's shoulder and I roll the window down and call his name. I have to call out twice before he hurries into his seat, looking frustrated as he glares out at the cameras. Normally, he doesn't let these people get to him so much. Something tells me there's more to it; he was already upset about something else.

            I roll the window up and he looks in the back seat at Gemma.

            "Get that out of your mouth right now," he says, the anger still in his voice, but much softer than it had been when he was yelling at the paparazzo. He reaches his hand back as Gemma leans forth in her seat and disobediently sticks her now purple tongue at him.

            "Gemma," he says warningly, " _Right now_. We're not going anywhere until you take that out of your mouth." She kicks her foot against the back of his seat and whines.

            "Baby, it's a choking hazard. I'm not going to drive while you're eating that," I explain calmly, placing my hand on Jake's knee.

            "Calm down," I say quietly. He reaches back further and simply takes the candy out of Gemma's hand, grabbing a napkin from the cup holder and wrapping it up. The girl cries.

            "You can finish it when we get home," he says. And I start slowly, the group finally backing the hell up so we can leave. Jake sighs and takes his hat off at last. Gemma doesn't stop crying. I pause at the stop sign to the car park.

            "Want to hear some music? Let's put some music on," I say soothingly, and turn on the radio to their favourite station, some pop song filling my ears immediately after pressing the button. Gemma continues to kick the back of Jake's seat, yelling at him that he's mean.

            "I think someone needs a nap, huh?" he says, looking back at her. She spits and his eyes widen. He's angry.

            "Gemma Marlene Gyllenhaal, you _did not_ just spit at me. Stop it right now," he says warningly.

            "You do not _spit_ at people, do you hear me? It's rude. _Very_ rude behavior."

I hear a final kick at the back of Jake's seat before she quiets down, crying angrily. I place my hand on his knee and he's still looking in the back seat at Gemma, telling her to calm herself.

 

 

            The first thing we do is set the girls on the couch in the living room and put on their favourite movie—The Aristocats—as soon as we get home. Often, they fall asleep to Disney movies, and sleep well. It's usually the only way to get them to nap at all. Gemma had forgotten about the lollipop on the drive home and begun singing along to some Selena Gomez song. Jake finally pulls the piece of candy out of his pocket and leaves it on the counter in the kitchen.

            "Man, when those girls get tired," he says, and I can't help but laugh just a little bit.

            "Maybe you shouldn't have pushed that guy. I'd hate for them to see you do things like that and think it's okay." Jake sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

            "I'm sorry," he says genuinely, "I'm sorry. It won't happen again. You know I don't usually let them get to me like that. It just ticked me off, the way they started talking to the girls…to you. I'm going to call Maggie and see how the baby is doing. I still haven't seen her since I got home," he explains before leaning down to give me a quick kiss. In all honesty, it's a bit of a relief that our youngest is away for the weekend. With the girls calmed down, we'll both have a real chance to unwind.

            Jake sits at the counter while I start on dinner. He sounds relieved to hear his sister's voice.

            "Oh, she's napping? Good. Give her a kiss for me, your girls too." I wash brown rice in a sieve that's small enough to keep the grains from falling through, fill a pot with a few cups of water to boil broccoli, a second one for the rice, and wash the spinach to be sautéed. Jake had finished talking on the phone, and in the middle of peeling garlic, I finally notice him staring at me. He grins.

            "What?" After all this time, he still gets me to blush.

            "You. You just look perfect right now. Look at you," he says, that soft voice making me weak in the knees.

            "I'm _so_ glad I'm home. I need a vacation."

            "I'm glad you're home, too." I shred five cloves of garlic in the food processor and venture to the sink to wash my hands. Before I can turn around, I am pressed against the counter, Jacob's arms wrapping around me. He moans into my shoulder and I laugh, leaning back against him.

            "Mmmm…How about that baby boy?" He whispers, nipping my ear. I wash my hands and his insistent kissing on my neck causes me to move at a slower, distracted pace.            

            "Mi?" I dry my hands on a dishtowel and turn around to place them on Jacob's chest. I sigh.

            "Who's to say we wouldn't just get _another_ girl?" He smiles as I rub his shoulders.

            "Well, we can't possibly know without trying." We had never _tried_ to have our girls; each one was a complete surprise. I sigh.

            "I just...those pregnancies were the hardest things I've ever been through, physically."

            "Says the woman who has Pulitzer-worthy frontline photos she took in Iraq," he responds. My smile fades.

            "Okay. Maybe that was a bad comparison. I didn't mean it like that—"

            "I know, Jake. I'm really satisfied with what we have now…Why can't we just enjoy what we have?" I ask gently, cupping his cheek. I can feel his disappointment at the turn this conversation is taking.

            "Each and every time I found out that I was becoming a dad, I was hoping for a son. And we wouldn't have to try right away, Mi. Maybe in two or three years, when Gabby can be a little less dependent...what's wrong?" He asks; I had gradually begun to look away, my hand having fallen from Jake's cheek. He clutches my waist.

            "Baby?"

            "I..." Jake pushes both hands through my hair, making me face him.

            "Mira, I've dreamed about him...I've been dreaming about him a lot lately. And I think some of it might've been because I've been missing the kids so much, but I know it's because this is something that I really want. And I want it with _you_..."

            "Jacob," I breathe.

            "The night before I came home, it happened again," he says, his eyes glazing over quietly, a slow smile lighting his face.

            "And in that dream, I just held him. I _held him_ , and it was so real, Mira. And then I woke up and I thought, 'My god, I need to get home and see those girls, that woman who gave them to me.' And I was _so_ happy the moment I pulled up in the driveway, walked up those stairs, saw them sleeping, but that little boy was nowhere to be found. I felt...like those dreams have betrayed me long enough."

            My eyes are dripping, though I'm smiling. He wipes them with his thumbs before we stand there and kiss for a long moment. And then Jacob pulls me up atop the counter, his tongue sliding across mine, a heavy exhale into my mouth. A sizzling noise meets my ears and I pull my head back to find that the water for the broccoli is boiling over.

            "Shit." I slide past Jake to rush to the stove. After putting on the broccoli, I turn around to find Jake leaning against the sink with crossed arms.

            "What are you thinking, Mi?" He asks genuinely. I'm quiet a moment too long. He starts towards me cautiously.

            "What you said, it was so beautiful. But, I'm really not sure I can go through all of it again. Alone. I was _alone_ throughout those pregnancies, Jake. And I haven't told you as much as I maybe should've. I didn't want you to worry. I _need_ you around more." I spill the beans at last.

            "Alone? You're never alone, Mi. You know that I call every chance I get, I come home to visit, I take breaks, you’ve made some friends out here, or so I thought…I thought we both agreed that we wanted our kids to be raised by people we know. And we don't know anyone as well as we know ourselves.

            "Just forget it," I sigh, making my way to the drawer for a spoon to stir.

            " _No._ Come on, Mi. I'm trying here, I really am. Just—let's talk…Remember when I asked you if you were really okay giving up working for a while? You told me you were okay with it." I turn away, back to the stove to stir the pot.

            "Baby, I'm not trying to be...an asshole. What do you want me to do? I still have to support us, we need to put together the girls' college funds now. I want the best for them— _we_ want the best for them." He rubs my hips soothingly.

            "You know there's no shortage of money between us…It's not about the money. I _loved_ what I was doing. It's just so much harder without you around. The girls are my priority, you know that. I thought we also agreed that _neither_ of us would give up our careers. I feel like you're asking me to do that when you talk about having another kid."

He rests his lips on my neck for a while before speaking again.

            "It's something I really want, Mira. And I don't _want_ you to stop writing and taking pictures…You don't have to give anything up. I would _never_ ask you to give anything up. We have family, and they help us out, don't they?" I sigh and his arms encircle me again.

            "Have I made you feel alone?"

            "It's just that I spent _a lot_ of time alone while I was pregnant. I had to stop working second trimester with Piper, remember? I was anemic, you were doing a movie, you weren't around."

I stop stirring to just massage my temples. Jake sighs.

            "You were anemic when you were carrying Piper?" He asks with cocked brows, "You never told me that. Why didn't you tell me?"

            "It wasn't that serious. I didn't want you to worry, lose focus. I'd had it before, when I was a kid. The doctor told me what to eat, I took care of myself…You would've known if you were here."

            "I'm here. I'm _here_ now…what do you want to do, start having the kids spend more time with my mom? We can do that if you want. You know she'd be _happy_ to watch them when they're not in school, free up some time for you—"

            "No, I don't want to burden her. She's got enough on her plate already," I mumble.

            "Baby, I'm trying to compromise with you. But you _have_ to meet me halfway."

I don't know what else to say.

            "Mi…"

I shrug.

            "I've just had a long week. Can we talk about this another time? Let me—let me unwind."

He stands there a moment longer.

            "Okay. Okay. That's all you had to say," he says, and when I turn around, his hands are up as if to surrender. He starts out of the kitchen, this passive aggressive gust in his stead. Perhaps he hadn't meant it that way. And then I feel selfish and bad on the inside. Something tells me that even if we _tried_ this time, we'd end up with another sweet-eyed little girl. I am just about done cooking dinner around six in the afternoon. I tiptoe to the den to find that Jake is watching the news quietly while Piper remains asleep, drooling on his chest, Gemma lying on the couch nearby. He looks over to the doorway where I'm standing, watching.

            "They slept through most of the movie, so I turned it off," he says quietly, stroking Piper's hair.

            "Good. It's time for dinner." I walk in closer to start waking Gemma up. Jake sits Piper on his lap, upright, rubbing her back, until she comes to. He watches her with glistening eyes, and as I get closer, I wonder momentarily whether he had been crying. I feel worse; if he _had_ cried, I knew it was my fault.

            "This Ebola stuff is getting closer to home every day," he says to me, and my heart jumps. I can't help but hone in on the hint of fear in his voice. Piper yawns, her hand resting on Jake's chest. Gemma clings to me, mumbling sleepily about kittens. I smile at her before asking whether she'd had a good nap.

            "Don't get too wrapped up in it, Jake," I say gently.

            "When are the girls off for a break from school?" He asks.

            "Uhh...soon. There's a calendar on the fridge. Around Thanksgiving." I lead Gemma into the bathroom to wash her hands...

            Jacob spent a good deal of time trying to get the girls to fall asleep, having read through The Three Little Pigs, Little Red Riding Hood, and Corduroy before they gave in. He catches me off guard upon entering the shower when I'm halfway through washing my hair.

            "Don't be angry. I hate it when you're angry with me." Suds travel down my front and cause Jake's arms to slide at my waist, so he clings a bit tighter, kissing my shoulder.

            "I'm not," I state calmly.

            "You were. Did you really hate being pregnant _that_ much?"

            "…You never really saw the half of it, J."

            "I was there when Gemma was born." I turn around at last and face him, naked, more open than I would have been, had the heat of the water not loosened me up. His hair is plastered to his face and his eyes are reduced to little blue slits, creating the image of a sad wet puppy, and I laugh. He smiles slowly.

            "What?" I push the hair back and part it, exposing the clearing that is his forehead. He cocks his eyebrows a moment, as if surprised that I had touched him.

            "I know I wasn't there when Piper was born, but I was _rushing_ to get there. You'll never know how horrible I felt—and _still_ feel—for letting you go through that alone," he says on a serious note. I place my hands on his shoulders.

            "Your sister was there...I wasn't alone."

            "You know what I mean… _I_ should've been there." Piper had been born prematurely.

            "Jake."

            "No excuses. I should have been around." We'd tried to plan around a movie Jake was doing so that he could at least be there, but like I said, Piper was premature, and you can't always predict those things. I close the space between us to hold him.

            "It's okay," I breathe.

            "It's not. You _were_ alone a lot of those times, and I'm at fault. Even when I was home and doing a movie, I wasn't…I wasn't focused on being at home. There are days where I felt like you weren't okay while I was working. I could hear it in your voice on the phone, but you wouldn't admit it...why didn't you tell me?"

            "I wanted you to be happy," I admit, resting my forehead against his chest.

            "I thought _you_ were happy. I want you to be happy, too."

            "I _am_. I was..." my eyes begin to water, "I just wish you were there more."

            "I'm sorry."

He holds my shoulders to look down at me.

            "Mira, I'm sorry."

I feel an odd weakness, tired, and I shiver. The kiss makes me weaker and I find myself fumbling towards Jake a moment. He catches me before we both slip.

            "I'm _so_ tired," I admit, closing my eyes and letting the water stream into my face. He continues to my neck and this dull ache begins to form between my thighs.

            "I was hoping you wouldn't be," he says against my skin. I smile slightly. We had straight up slept the previous night, holding hands in bed. Jake had talked. He talked about how amazing his experience had been, how much the director just got him, how he bled and sweat, and cried over his character, that the movie was a complete success. Jake talked until I couldn't keep my eyes open and was leaning against his shoulder dozing off. Despite being exhausted, he had even gotten out of bed before me this morning to go and play with the girls, who woke up very excited to see that their dad was home. I reach for the bar of Dove and start on my body, Jake's hands traveling after the suds, a just about desperate stare causing his brows to crease, his eyes bearing down into my flesh. I start on my legs and his hands pass over my rear, again following the suds. He wasn't going to give up that easily.

            "I really am tired, though," I groan, starting to massage his chest with the same fragrant bar of soap I had used on myself. I nearly slip again and he catches me.

            "You okay?" he asks genuinely, his arms pulling harder into my waist before I can steady myself.

            "It's been a long week. I'm… _floored_ that you got Piper to sleep. She's been having a lot of nightmares."

            "Poor baby girl," he says, steadying me. I get on my tiptoes to kiss him one more time before starting out of the shower.

            "I'll think about it, Jake," I promise before leaving him in the steam with a hopeful look on his face. I just don't feel right, physically, mentally. I feel so selfish. If he wanted a son, why couldn't I give that to him? He was working so hard—for all of us—not just himself. It wasn't all about Jake anymore. I can't help but begin to cry a little bit as I towel off in our adjoining room. Jake had made the bed; he knows how much I hate sleeping in an unmade bed, the unevenness of the covers failing to swaddle you just so. After trying to calm myself with a massage in lotion, I pull out a long-sleeved shirt habitually, forgetting I don't need it tonight, now that Jake is home. I put it on anyway, feeling the weakness of sleep trying to reel me in. I turn on the news and watch for about eight minutes before standing up to take another sip from the glass of water I had put on the dresser. When I notice a spider next to it, I shriek and grab the cup, smashing the fiend with the bottom.

            Jake emerges from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and a toothbrush in his mouth, having heard the commotion.

            "Mi?" he says, his mouth full of paste.

            "These _goddamn_ spiders," I sigh, turning to face him, frantically running my fingers through my hair, as if they're in there too.

            "I think we need to call an exterminator, Jake. I killed one earlier on the bathroom mirror, Gemma saw one, and now…" I shudder, rubbing my arms uncomfortably.

            "Okay. I'll call a guy in the morning," he promises, heading back into the bathroom to spit. I turn off the news and leave only the lamp light on, so that Jake could see when he came to get in bed. I feel myself drifting several times; I don't really want to go out until I know his arms are around me. I want it to feel like he's _still_ home before I fall asleep…His hands rubbing at my waist, his body a heat pressed against my spine, awakens me. **He keeps saying my name, and I groan and keep my eyes closed until he stops and I can simply feel his nose resting in my hair, exhaling…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all stuff I have written over the past few months. I'm just finally getting around to editing it. I can't believe how much I wrote on my phone. I'm insane, I know. You don't have to remind me. I've also noticed some formatting errors whenever I've been transitioning heavy dialogue text from Microsoft Word. Ugh! I tried my best to fix it all, but there must be something still wrong with AO3 (laboriously rolls eyes). Shit gets crazy here, but it doesn't end with this chapter, and there will be surprises...

            The girls are laughing. Jacob is laughing. They're down the hall, not very far, but just enough that it's almost like they're not even there. I can't lift my head. My body feels like a stone attached to the sheet beneath me. Their laughter soon comes closer and closer, until they are in the bedroom. Little feet are jumping on the mattress and the voices of cherubs are calling out to me.

            "Girls, don't jump too high," Jacob warns. A small pair of knees collide with my back and crush me. Gemma hugs me and I decide that maybe it _is_ time to get up after all.

            "Halloween!" Gemma shrieks.

            "Mira, you've been sleeping all day," Jake says, and I feel the weight of Gemma's body leave me. Jake comes into view, holding Gemma. She plays with his hair.

            "Honey, they really want to go trick-or-treating after the party. Aren't you coming?" he asks.

            "I can't get up," I mutter, shifting slowly to my side to find Piper kneeling on the comforter, her bright, big eyes staring at me patiently. She reaches out with her small arms, waiting to be picked up. I feel so weak that I can barely pull a hand through her hair.

            "I can't," I breathe.

Jake looks disappointed, but he hides it quickly, walking around the bed to get Piper down.

            "Here's the plan, ladies. Mom's not feeling well, so dad's going to get you both in your costumes and we'll go over to auntie Maggie's for the party, and then we'll go outside and get some candy."

            "Mommy?" Piper asks, looking up at Jake, and then back at me.

            "She's sick, Pips. Let's let her rest."

            I feel as if I have died, not physically, but on the inside. The last thing I would have wanted is for those people and their cameras to have gotten to me, but they did. The other day at the carnival keeps playing through my head as I walk down the stairs at six in the afternoon to finally try and feed myself. A stranger's voice echoes in my thoughts… _He doesn't wanna marry you?_ Maybe that's _exactly_ what it is. And after I chase down four Tylenol with three glasses of water, I feel like I'll burst. I sit on the floor to cry, my hands shaking. Jacob had tried to wake me up more than once today, but I just couldn't. The third time he tried, I'd shoved him away quite angrily. When he asked what was wrong with me, I just kept my eyes closed and turned my face into the pillow, and cried, but silently. He just assumed I didn't feel well. But really, I was thinking about what the bastard snapping pictures at the carnival had said, about our kids, about me. Maybe it was all true. Maybe Jake was only sticking around because of the girls. If he didn't love me anymore, he loved those girls. I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at Gemma and Piper, the way he looks at Gabrielle when he holds her, the way he looked at me at one time.

            I factor in how much time he has spent away from me, directing and acting. For all I know, there is already someone else. Maybe I've done this to _myself_ and he resents me for not wanting to try and have a boy. He wants that more than I've ever seen him want anything. Maybe because of this, I have pushed him away. I begin to cry louder, my voice filling the halls and resonating with only me. I would _never_ have cried like this in front of my children. I soothe myself by imagining Jake with my camera, snapping photos of our babies in white tights and angel wings, pointing their stellar wands, their cheeks dabbed in rouge and sprinkled with glitter, halo headbands tucked into their chestnut hair. They had his everything, just about, and even the shape of their delicate lips were his. Every day he spends away, it's like looking at him when I look at them, when they gaze up at me as I brush their hair, put them in the bath, tuck them in bed.

            When was the last time he said that he loved me? He used to say it every day. I cover my eyes and stare at the stove, bad thoughts going through my head. I tell myself I'm being crazy, get up out of my pathetic state. I distract by making dinner frantically. _But why won’t he ask me?_ _We've been together long enough? …There's nothing stopping him. He just doesn't love me anymore._ _What other reason could there be?_ I've nearly finished baking a chicken by the time Jake and the girls rush back into the house, laughter all around, and at last I realize that Gabrielle is crying upstairs somewhere. How long this has been going on, I'm not entirely sure. When did she even get home? I was sure it was only the Saturday after the carnival, which was Thursday? …The day after Jake came home Wednesday night…? I really _am_ losing my mind. The girls rush into the kitchen and show me their pumpkin buckets, which are full near to the brim with candy. I make a mental note to throw away at least half of it while they're not looking. Jacob has such frail restraint with these children. It pains him not to give them everything they want. I know he knows that this is just too much candy for any one child. He stands in the doorway, his grin fading. Gabrielle is shrieking, and now I cannot believe I hadn't heard it before.

            "Mira, you look _terrible_ ," he says before rushing out of the kitchen, "And the baby is crying."

            "Girls, let's get washed up for dinner, okay?" I lead them to the bathroom and tell them to wash their hands thoroughly as I rush up the stairs where Jake had disappeared. When I find him, he's pacing back and forth in our bedroom, swaying Gabrielle, telling her she's okay, holding her head against his chest. She has no diaper on, only an unbuttoned onesie. When he sees me in the doorway, he stops, and there is terror on his face.

            "My god, Mira, she was on the _floor_. How did you leave her there like that?" he asks in disbelief. I glance over at a small mess of covers on the floor, where it looks like the child had slid down. There's a small puddle of urine on the floor, and a clean diaper is just resting on the nightstand. I don't even remember waking up to deal with Gabrielle at all, but I must have at some point after Jake took Gemma and Piper to the party. I stand there in disbelief for a moment as he asks me again how Gabby got on the floor.

            "I hope she's not hurt," he says, placing her on the bed and lifting the item of clothing to inspect her. She had stopped crying so harshly.

            "You should've put her in the crib while you were cooking," he says a bit furiously as I step closer.

            "Gabby," I breathe, moving in to pick her up, but he takes her into his arms again.

            "How could you _do_ that, Mira? She doesn't even _crawl_ yet. Jesus, I was only gone a few hours," he says. My heart wrenches as he turns to me with glaring brows, cradling the baby's head and bottom securely.

            "She looks alright. Is she alright?" I ask.

            "I'm going to take her to the ER just to make sure. Watch the girls. Next time, put her in the crib before you go wandering around the house."

            I can hear his impatience as he leaves the room, and I simply stand there feeling like the worst person in the world. I go into the bathroom for Lysol wipes to clean up the mess, and as I do so, I start crying again. I'm not even a good mother anymore. I brush my hair and wash my face hastily, Piper and Gemma on their way upstairs, telling me that daddy left and took their little sister; he told them to stay in the house. I smile my best, hiding the pain I'd felt for being so reckless with my own child. Jake was rightfully angry with me for having been careless with our daughter. Maybe he was angry with me for fussing at him when he was only trying to wake me up so I wouldn't miss another rare moment as a family, trick-or-treating with the girls. I don't know. All I know is that I never want him to look at me with such contempt again. I don't think I'd survive it a second time. It's not like we've never fought, but this anger was different.

            After I get the girls fed and washed, put them in bed, Jake hasn't come home. I battle with myself about the telephone for a full minute before finally calling him, sinking into a chair at the counter in the kitchen. He picks up after two rings.

            "I'm still waiting," he says right away, "They wouldn't see her right away because she wasn't crying and she looks okay." I'm silent a moment too long.

            "Hello? Mira?"

            "I'm sorry," I sob, unable to contain the regret in my voice. Jake sighs.

            "I'll be home soon…it's okay. I think she's fine," he says reassuringly.

            "If she's not, I'll never forgive myself. I don't know what happened, Jake. I don't even remember going to change her diaper. I just got out of bed to make dinner."

            "I heard her crying as soon as I walked through the door," he says.

            "I don't know what happened, Jake." And now I'm wiping my eyes. His voice softens.

            "Honey, the doctor's going to look at her, check her head. She'll be okay. Don't worry. I'll be home soon."

            "Okay."

            "Okay?"

There's a silence for a few seconds, and my heart rate increases. It's as if he's waiting to say something else, and when I hear the dial tone, I know he's not happy.

 

            We are making a movie together. Not really; I'm simply taking the photos. It's strange to have to be around my husband…he's not my husband…professionally. When he looks at the camera, talks to me on set about the lighting or whether I want his face turned this way or that, it feels like I'm a stranger Jake is talking to. It feels to me like he's talking to someone he doesn't care about. I hate it, even when he smiles at me in a most sincere way for a frame. It's been two months since that accident with the baby, and I still feel like he hasn't forgiven me. Thank god he'd brought her home without a scratch or bad news. I still can't believe that _I_ was responsible. I was so wrapped up in thinking about how much he doesn't care anymore that I'd forgotten about the things that matter to me most.

            If I couldn't have his love, I had the girls. I still can't quite place why he hasn't asked me to marry him. And as we end for the day and start to the car to drive over to Jake's mother's house to get the girls, I feel as if we've fallen apart. He hasn't said a word since leaving the set. After pulling open the car door, I stand out in the December cold, pondering whether or not to get in. Jake gets into the driver's seat and closes the door. He starts the car, and I see his hand moving to put it in reverse before he realizes I haven't budged.

            "Mi…did you forget something on set?"

When I respond by closing the car door and crossing my arms, he gets out of the car. He looks over at me across the roof.

            "What is it?"

I stare over at him hard, the cold causing my eyes to burn.

            "Mira?"

He sighs.

            "What's going on? Let's get in the car and get the kids so we can go home."

            "Why don't you love me anymore?" I ask genuinely. He looks at me with disbelief and confusion before starting slowly around the car.

            "Please…tell me you didn't just ask what I think you asked me," he says, pulling his ungloved hands out of his pockets.

            "Ever since you came home, and we talked about your dream, you just seem…angry." I shrug my shoulders, my eyes finally welling up. Jake sighs, closes his eyes, faces the ground, covers his mouth and nose with both hands for a moment.

            "Mi, it's been a long day. Let's just get the kids and go home."

            "Just _tell me_ you don't want to be with me anymore," I say desperately, my voice breaking.

            "Alright, what are you _talking_ about, Mira?" he asks, the patience waning. And as if they had been lurking in the shadows, waiting for a show, cameras start flashing. Jake's back is turned to them and he doesn't even notice.

            "I feel like you don't want to be with me, or you're angry about something. You're _angry_ with me because I don't want to have any more kids."

            "My god, Mira. I hope you're joking. I'm too tired to do this with you." He pulls the passenger's side door open behind me, gesturing inside.

            " _You're_ tired, _I'm_ tired. Let's go home. Okay?"

            "What about marriage? I can't help but wonder why you still haven't asked me."

He looks at me like he can't believe what I'm saying.

            "Did you ever think that maybe…it's something I want? I practically gave up my career to take care of our girls, Jacob."

            "Do you know how many times I've asked you to just _try_ —just try for me—to have a boy? Did you ever think about how much I want that? And you never had to give anything up—we're working together _right now_. Don't be selfish."

Deep down, I know he's more exhausted than I am. The way he'd responded was bitter and almost reprehensive.

            "I'm the _last_ person you should be calling selfish. I know how much being an actor means to you, and I _let you_ continue to live this dream, even after Gemma—I wasn't going to ask you to give that up. Don't you dare call _me_ selfish, Jacob…You weren't even there when Piper was _born_."

Angry tears spill out of my eyes and I can see Jake's tired blue orbs glisten for a second, but he holds his back. I've done it.

            "That is _not_ fair," he says, pointing a finger indignantly, his voice a bit louder, "She's a preemie—and you said you'd be fine when I asked if you wanted me _not_ to take that job while you were pregnant. You have _no idea_ the time, the energy I put into everything I do. There's simply no _time_ for a wedding right now. Why do you need a wedding? We have _everything_. I thought you understood that. We _both_ understood that at one point. I'm with _you_ , Mira. You're the only woman I'm in love with. _Where_ is this coming from?" he asks. And at last, the men with their cameras are close enough to start talking, hear the words exchanged between us. Jake steals a quick glance at them out of the corner of his eyes.

            "Mira, get in the car, please, before they see you crying."

            "I was right. You don't care anymore. Your job matters to you more than your family."

            " _Mira_."

I get into the car and slam the door shut, turning my face away and wiping my eyes with my sleeves. Even in the car, Jake and I continue to lean into each other.

            "I just—I—I don't understand how you could even _say_ this to me," he says, pausing at a red light to turn nearly full-body to me.

            "Something is wrong with you lately, and I don't know what it is, but you need to get some help, Mira, goddamn it."

            "Stop talking. Stop talking to me!" I growl, rubbing my temples.

            "You're a _mess_. I've seen you losing your shit with the girls more and more. You left the _baby_ in bed to fall on the floor and cry for hours! Remember that? You said you don't know what happened, like you just couldn't remember that you put the baby on our bed and left her there _by herself_." And now I'm crying enough that he has stopped talking. He just drives until we make it to his mother's house. When he stops, he sighs. I'm staring out the window into the darkness. I feel his hand at the small of my back and flinch.

            "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have said that. You weren't feeling well that day…It wasn't your fault." I sit up straight and pull a tissue from the glove compartment to wipe my nose and eyes.

            "I didn't mean it—"

            "Yes you did," I say emptily, nodding.

            He gets out of the car and when he goes to ring the bell, I look over at him standing in the cold on the porch. It's a while before his mother makes it to the door in her pajamas. They talk for about a minute before Jake hugs her and she kisses him on the cheek. I watch in confusion as she closes the door and he starts back down the steps without the children. He gets back into the car and starts it, making his way down the street.

            "Jake."

            "They're asleep. She'll keep them through the week, until we have the day off from filming."

            "Jake—"

He stops abruptly halfway down the street and turns to me.

            "I _don't_ want them to be around us like this…I think we should just go home and go to sleep. And as soon as we get the day off, we need to have a serious talk, okay? I just don't want them to see us fighting like this." And his voice cracks as he finishes his sentence, his eyes glazing over but never dripping. I only know how upset he is from watching his expression and the momentary sniffling as he wipes at his nose. I should have kept my mouth shut. He doesn't say another word to me the rest of the drive home.

            We don't face each other in bed and all I feel is his warmth emanating off in stressful waves. I don't want to drive him away, but I don't want any more kids. I know it's also the stress of motherhood that had caused me to make the sort of mistake as leaving Gabby unattended. At times I feel that I've been raising those girls all by myself, as if Jake somehow never existed. We haven't had a fight this bad since…I can't even remember when. Normally we would have swapped sincere apologies before going to sleep, but that just didn't happen this time. Knowing I have to be awake by four-thirty in the morning doesn't make things any easier. Part of me believes that it's only because of Jake that I'm going to be working so closely with this renown director, film a few scenes myself. I had wanted to get back into being behind a camera, doing more than simply snapping the best shots. I cry myself to sleep as quietly as possible, and swear that I feel Jake's arm drift across my waist habitually.

 

            The break comes for the holidays and right on time, the day after Jake's birthday, which we spent filming and working. The girls are now on vacation for Christmas, and Jake had put them to bed while I wait in the kitchen with a glass of wine. When he sits across from me at the counter, we just look at each other for a while. Jake places his hands atop mine, which had been resting on the cold granite. I'm shaking on the inside. The way he'd said we needed to have a serious talk the other night had put a fear in me that was uncertainty.

            "Tell me why you told me that I don't love you anymore. Why do you think that?" he asks patiently. I sink, my shoulders, my heart, they all just drop. I can't respond. His grip on my hands tighten.

            "I didn't _know_ how much being married meant to you. I thought we were okay."

            "I just need to know…why you haven't asked. It's not about an actual wedding, it's about how committed I feel you are." When I look at his face, it's devastated.

            "Those girls asleep upstairs are my _world_. You are my world. My family is my world, Mira. You _cannot_ listen to those people—who don't even _know_ us—say things like that. They don't know us. The fucking paparazzi shouldn't get to you like this."

            "I _know_. But that day, that one comment just made me wonder."

            "You think that I don't want to marry you?" he asks sadly.

            "I'm not sure," I breathe.

He looks away a moment, bites his lip.

            "If we got married, would it fix everything. Would you be yourself again?"

He makes it sound so simple that I suddenly feel stupid. I just cry.

            "I didn't realize how _hard_ it was going to be…not seeing you. Having you be gone all the time. I have felt selfish because you were always telling me about our son, and maybe you hate me for not wanting him, too."

            "I don't hate you, Mira—"

            "But you're not happy with me because I can't give you that. Tell me it makes you angry."

            "…I'm not…angry. I'm disappointed," he admits, "Yes, I have always wanted a son. But I'm not going to make you do things just so I'll be happy, if it won't make you happy. I want it to be something that we _both_ want." He had let go of my hands so I could wipe my eyes.

            "You know, I _have_ considered marriage, but I still doubt myself sometimes. That's why I haven't asked…Are we _really_ strong enough for that? And I just don't want to screw things up. I was going to marry other people before I met you, I thought I wanted that, but I always screwed everything up because I got _scared_. It wasn't until Gemma came into my life that I realized I _can_ commit. I'm committed right now. You mean everything to me. The girls mean everything to me, I wish you knew that."

            "I know that."

            "I'm really just not ready to have everything be…like that between us. People get married and they fall apart because they set up these expectations they can't meet. I don't want that to happen to us."

            "It wouldn't. I know it wouldn't."

            "You told me before that you were satisfied with what we have now. Can you be satisfied with what we have now?"

I look into his eyes a long moment.

            "Just, please, don't go. I can't do this alone anymore."

            "You're not alone, Mi."

            "I need you to stay."

            "Why would I leave? There's _nowhere_ else I'd rather be."

            He stands up and walks around the counter to hug me. We speak no more, but I feel we've resolved nothing, really. He thinks that he'll mess up. That's why he can't marry me. But if he thinks that he'll mess up, perhaps he already _has_. We get ready for bed, make love kind of awkwardly, but I feel better in Jacob's warmth. When I wake up and his arm is still around me, I think maybe things have gotten better. Slowly, I sit up, and Jake stirs. I get up to go to the bathroom, and when I come back, he's sitting up in bed, eyes plastered on the bathroom door, waiting for me. I grin timidly, as if I'm meeting him for the first time.

            "It's nine-thirty and I don't hear the girls yet," he says with some surprise. Normally we'd hear them laughing in their room down the hall. The baby had cried only once in the middle of the night, and Jake had gone to take care of her so that I could sleep. Things feel at ease.

            "The longer they sleep, the better. I'm not ready to run around after them," I explain, sighing and sitting stark naked atop the bed. I cross my legs and face Jake. He looks me up and down slowly, contemplatively, sighing and pushing a hand through his hair, which for some reason has gotten even longer.

            "You look amazing, Mira." His hand dives against my hip and his eyes meet mine.

            "Do I?" I laugh. He laughs tiredly and I lean in until my forehead rests against his chest.

            "Holy shit, we haven't bought the girls' gifts. Christmas is in _five_ days."

            "I've been meaning to bring that up, but I kept forgetting. We've been so busy."

            "I don't know how I could have forgotten, the number of times Gemma's been begging me for a horse."

I laugh. We had forgotten because things were bad between us.

            "Hey," he says, and I find two hands cupping my face.

            "I love you."

I just let it sink in. It feels good. The look in his eyes back the words up completely. He kisses my forehead a long moment.

            "Come on. Let's see if we can get someone to watch the kids while we go shopping."

 

            I finally get ready to shower after throwing on my robe to go make breakfast for everyone. Jake is dressed and ready to go just as I'm about to leave the kitchen, Piper and Gemma dashing in beside him energetically, the baby in his arms.

            "You're still not dressed? We should go. The earlier, the better. It's going to be crazy out there," Jake says.

            "Okay—okay, just feed them and I'll try to hurry up. I make my way up the stairs and into the bathroom, brushing my teeth and climbing into the shower at top speed. When I get out, and get dressed, Jake calls to me from the bottom of the stairs.

            "My mom's home. We can drop the girls off and pick them up afterwards. I'm getting them in the car right now."

            "Okay, I'm coming!" I stick my head out our bedroom door to answer hastily. And right when I've dragged my boots out of the closet to put on, my phone beeps with the daily reminder to take my pill. I curse and pull open the drawer where I keep my underwear. I almost always forget to take the damn things. After a while, I'd chalked all three pregnancies up to being forgetful. I laugh to myself for a moment but when the little, pink, cyclical case doesn't appear where I'd generally kept it when I wasn't on the go, I start to panic, until I've pulled out bras and underwear, dropping them atop the bureau.

            "Mira?" Jake calls up the stairs, "Let's go. Come on, the car's warmed up."

            "Just a second!"

When a second turns into minutes of me pulling clothes out of the drawers and swearing, Jake makes his way up the stairs.

            "Mira? …Honey, let's go. What are you doing?"

He stands in the doorway.

            "No, no, no—wait, I just need to get my pill."

He sighs.

            "Mira, there's going to be _so_ many people shopping last minute. We have to go now."

            "Jake! Just— _hold on_ ," I say impatiently. He sighs again and I rush into the bathroom and pull open the drawers, the cabinet.

            "What the fuck…? Jake, have you seen my pills?" I ask. He walks into the bathroom.

            "Don't you usually leave them in your drawer?"

I pause and look at him as he crosses his arms nonchalantly, leaning against the doorframe.

            " _Yes_! They were in—in—"

            "Okay, calm down. You're _not_ going to get pregnant from missing just _one_ day."

            I laugh without humor, "That's what _I_ used to think, and then Gemma happened."

            " _Let's go_. We can stop by the pharmacy on the way."

He moves in to grab my arm and starts through the bathroom door. I stop dead in my tracks, all this sense hitting me at once.

            "Wait, did you take them?"

He turns around, looking rather impatient.

            "Why would I take your pills, Mi? The girls are in the car, let's go—"

            "Because I know I left them in my drawer. The _top_ drawer, where I _always_ leave them. You know that's where I always keep them."

            "You'll have plenty of time to find them when we get back, okay? Sometimes you just misplace things," Jake says, waving his hand nonchalantly. He tries to pull me along again and I stop, pulling my wrist out of his hand.

            " _Did_ _—you_ _—take_ _—them_?"

He looks at me with some disbelief.

            "Okay, I _know_ that you really want that little boy, but this is _not_ the way to get me to do things."

            "…You _really_ think that I would do that to you?" he asks genuinely, pointing to himself.

            "Just _help_ me find them, _please_ , and then we can go," I say distractedly, pulling open the mirror cabinet. A spider is sitting atop a bottle of painkillers and I scream shortly.

            "What is it?" Jake asks with immediate concern, stepping inside the bathroom again. I reach for a washcloth on the sink and smash the arachnid.

            "These _goddamn_ _spiders_. Jake, _where_ are my pills?"

And then walks right out of the bathroom. I call his name again. I hear him start down the stairs. I slam the drawer shut and walk out into the tornado I've made of our bedroom. When I make it down the stairs and start into the hall to grab my coat, Jake holds up to me the small pink case. I stare at it in his hand for a moment in utter disbelief, before he places it in my palm. He makes his way to the front door, calling over his shoulder.

            "They were in your purse."

And then I recall that I'd been taking them with me while working on the set during the day.

           

            Jacob clearly isn't happy as we wander the aisles of Toys R Us. I haven't said anything to him since we left the house either. He pulls his hat down a little further, and the shades of his sunglasses are so dark that I can't tell whether he's looking at me or something on the shelf to my left, until he pauses.

            "That's what Piper was talking about," he says, talking to himself and reaching for some sort of Barbie. He smiles, gazing down at the box. I get closer to him until I can wrap my arms around his. The smile fades.

            "I'm sorry," I whisper, pressing my lips to his cheek. He only sighs.

            "I'm sorry, J," I say, meaning it, "I just forgot where I put them. I wasn't thinking."

He doesn't speak, and I feel the silence like some kind of chill as he starts along again. He doesn't push me away, but he takes off the shades just to see better, grabbing an abandoned cart that we come across and dropping the doll in.

            "Gemma wants a _real_ horse, but we're not buying a horse. She's too small."

He'd have gotten her a real one, too. I know this.

            "Maybe when she's older. Just keep your eyes peeled for horse-related stuff."

He says all of this without even looking at me. I feel so selfish again, cruel. I didn't even bother to take the stupid pill after he handed me the case.

            "Okay," I say quietly, releasing his arm and hanging onto the side of the cart. I keep walking on, trying not to start crying like an idiot, when the cart stops rolling beside me and something catches at the back of my hood. I nearly trip before turning back to see Jacob with wide eyes, staring ahead at something, clutching my hood.

            "What?"

I follow his line of vision, which lands on someone who looks familiar. It's the makeup artist from the movie Jake is currently filming. She doesn't even see us, but I can tell from the side profile that it's her. She's standing next to another woman, a redhead, who's holding an equally flame-haired child. The women are conversing casually, laughing. Jake makes a U-turn with the cart, circling me and not releasing my hood.

            "What? Wait, Isn't that Carrie?" I ask. He reaches for the sunglasses again and puts them on.

            "I don't want to see anyone from work right now," he says, "If she sees me, she'll start talking about the movie, and that's the last thing I want to think about right now," he says.

            "You know, you actually look _more_ conspicuous wearing sunglasses inside."

He smiles a bit reluctantly before clutching my hand and telling me to hurry up before someone recognizes us. When we check out, Jake takes his sunglasses off again and the cashier's eyes widen excitedly. Jake hastily raises a finger to his lips and shushes the kid.

            "Merry Christmas," Jake smiles, opening his wallet for his Visa.

            " _Dude_ , you're incredible," the cashier whispers.

Jake laughs and I simply lean against the cart and watch. I'm used to this. When we manage to make it out of the store without cameras flashing in our faces, I'm relieved. Jake eyes the car park, equally relieved. When we make it to the car, I help him start loading the boot.

            "I can't wait to see their faces when they open these. That's the best part," he says, and the smile on his face is genuine. I pause and just stare at him in a daze. Finally he notices me.

            "You okay?"

            "I didn't even take the pill…if this is really what you want, Jake—"

            "No, no, no."

He grasps my waist.

            "Don't say it if you don't mean it. Don't do this just because of me. I want you to _want_ —"

            "I'm—I'm ready, Jake. Why can't I? We'll just have more to love—I have nothing to lose."

            "Mira…"

I feel the tears rolling down my cheeks, leaving coldness in their stead. Jake sighs.

            "I wasn't angry with you," He says, his voice gentle.

            "But I know this is what you want—"

            "Do _you_ want it? Don't say it if you don't mean it. I could never live with myself. I feel like I'm _making_ you do this."

            "Jake, let's have a boy."

            "I'm not gonna make you do this."

            "But I want you to be happy—"

            "Mira, just calm down," he says, despite smiling, "A few hours ago, you thought I tried to sabotage your birth control. Don't be brash. Just… _think_ about it. I really don't want you to do something like that because...because you felt pressure from me. You just started seriously working again. Let's take _one_ step at a time."

            "Okay," I breathe. He's holding my head in his hands now. I nod.

            "Let's just go home, hide these gifts—" I laugh. Jacob laughs.

            "Get our daughters, and enjoy the holidays." I grab onto his wrists, nodding. Maybe I was just speaking out of the heat of the moment. Maybe I wasn't. We kiss there for what feels like an hour before Jake reaches for the cart. I close up the boot and wait for him to come back and start the car. We hurry up the stairs to stash the gifts in our bathroom; the girls aren't allowed in there. The rest of the toys I hide in the walk-in closet, specifically behind Jake's clothes, because sometimes the girls liked to try and dress up as their mother. Jake disappears to the attic to find gift wrap. When he comes down the stairs with an arm full of crimson wrapping paper and ribbons, I shut the attic door. He hides the wrapping paper in the closet.

            "We can wrap tonight and put 'em under the tree on Christmas Eve, so the girls don't mess with them," I state. He pulls me in unexpectedly for a hug.

            "I love you, Jacob."

            "I know." He pushes his hands through my hair repeatedly. I kiss his parted lips.

            "I really am sorry about earlier, I fucked up."

He kisses my forehead. I take a look around our room. Jake's eyes follow mine, his fingers twirling my hair distractedly.

            "Let me pick up, then we can get the kids." To my surprise, he starts helping me.

            "Just throw them in the hamper."

            "My, my. _Hello_ ," he says. I turn around to throw a handful of underwear in the hamper and find Jake smiling, holding a red bra in front of his face. I laugh and roll my eyes, attempting to grab it from him.

            "I haven't seen this one in a while, Mi." He corners me against the bureau. I can't stop laughing as he cups my butt and starts trying to kiss me. We waste only a little bit of time making out when Jake's phone vibrates in his jeans. He sighs, pausing in nipping at my neck.

            "Is that your mom? Probably wondering where we are."

            "Hello?" He pulls me down off the bureau. I smooth my thumbs over his thick brows, the blue eyes darting back and forth when there's silence on the other line.

            "Daddy?!" Gemma squeaks into the phone.

            "Is that you, Gem? How'd you get on the phone?" She starts laughing and a smile breaks across his face.

            "We made cookies. Nana let us make cookies. For you and mommy! Will you try them?" She asks hopefully.

            "Of _course_ , baby girl. We're on our way right now."

            "You're coming over?" She asks.

            "Yeah! Right now."

            "Is mommy coming too?"

            "Yes!" We add simultaneously, and I press my nose against Jake's to make sure Gemma can hear me, too. He laughs.

            "Okay, sweetheart. We're hanging up now and getting in the car."

            "Okay!" Gemma shouts. We make our way to the car with joy in our hearts.

            "I wonder whether my mother helped her do that, or if she legitimately just grabbed the phone off the hook," Jake grins, backing out of the driveway.

            "She knows how to use a phone for emergencies. She knows our numbers by heart."

            When we make it to his mother's place, Gemma and Piper are playing in the yard with a beagle, their hands in pink gloves, jackets snuggly hugging their bodies. Jake makes it to them first. Piper scrambles over, nearly tripping, before grabbing ahold of Jake's long legs. The dog bounds over to him and starts sniffing at his shoes, Gemma following suit.

            "Where's your sister?" Jake asks.

            "Nana's feeding her," Gemma says, gazing up at Jake with starry eyes. He picks Piper up while Gemma is then distracted by the dog that begins tugging on her coat playfully. The screen door opens and Jake's mother steps out with Gabrielle on her hip. She smiles, waving us all into the house. I reach for Gemma's hand.

            "Come on, girls," I chime.

            "Cookies, mom!" Gemma shouts, pulling me farther.

            "Okay. Let me see these beautiful cookies you guys baked." I can't stop smiling. Piper is busy asking Jacob if he talked to Santa yet and told him that she too wants a pony for Christmas. I laugh to myself at the thought of the two giant stuffed unicorns hiding in mine and Jake's bedroom closet. When we get into the kitchen, Jake's mother sits Gabrielle back in the highchair and shows Jake and I the cookies Piper and Gemma helped her bake, explaining the special way that Gemma had spread the frosting and sprinkles. I tell the girls they did a good job and pick out just the one that Gemma and Piper want me to eat. We sit at the kitchen table while Jake's mother makes us all tea and hot chocolate. She asks us how it's been going working on a film together. Jake and I exchange glances.

            "Well, it's different, mom," Jake explains after finishing the cookie that Piper practically shoved into his mouth, giggling.

            "We've been...kinda stressed out, but it's good for Mira. She's been looking to do bigger and better things with her camera skills." He's looking at me while he speaks. And then I wonder just how much he'd told her about the fight we had that night when he decided to let the girls stay with her for the week.

            "It's just really long hours, you know? But this director is really something. I can see why Jake likes working with him. I'm blessed to be working with them both," I add genuinely. Jake picks Gabrielle up out of her seat and sits her on his lap.

            "I'm glad to hear, my dear," Jacob's mother grins, setting a cup of tea in front of me and kissing my cheek.

            "Thank you. And I can't thank you enough for taking care of the girls. I feel like we're _always_ at your doorstep with this trio. _My_ mom would do it more, but she's on the other coast—"

            "Are you _kidding_ me, Mira? I _love_ these girls. They brighten my day." She kisses Gemma atop the head before placing a mug of cocoa before her. Jake laughs as Gabrielle tries to put her hands in his mouth, babbling.

            "That girl's gonna walk any day now, Jacob, I'm telling you," his mother says.

            "You think?" He grins.

            "My god, how fast they grow. You two better enjoy it, before they're a pack of hormonal, rebellious teens."

 

            When the girls are asleep, Jake and I sit on our bed, the door closed, TV down low, wrapping the gifts. Jake disappears into the closet and throws out one of the giant stuffed unicorns. It lands on the bed, hitting me in the face and I laugh.

            "Jake, you don't _seriously_ think we're wrapping these?" I ask. He walks out of the closet in his pajama pants smiling. He'd simply meant to make me laugh. He sits on the bed near the box he had finished wrapping.

            "These are great. They're gonna lose their shit when they see them," he beams. I finish fixing a bow to the box I had wrapped and begin bringing them into the bathroom to hide behind the door while Jake finishes his batch of gifts. I sit on the bed with a sigh and grasp the plush toy.

            "It's really soft…now I kinda want it," I admit, burying my face in the mane. Jake laughs.

            "You're cute," he says.

            "Good thing we got two. I knew Piper would want the same thing. She's always copying after her big sister," he says, smiling and biting off a piece of clear tape to finish closing up the Barbie Piper had asked for.

            "Just like you're always doing? She takes after her dad," I add sleepily, lying on my side. Jake grins at me.

            "Hey, put your finger right here," he says. And I place my index finger where he's beginning to tie a bow to the box.

            "…Perfect," he says, finishing the job. He picks up the last few boxes, whistling Jingle Bells as he walks into the bathroom to hide them behind the door. His hair is still damp from the shower, slicked back and suave, and my eyes gravitate towards him as he makes his way back into the bedroom. I had rolled onto my back, holding the giant unicorn atop my body.

            "Now _that_ ," Jake starts, pausing right in front of the TV and blocking my view of the eleven o'clock news, "Looks like a good time," he finishes. I laugh sleepily and he starts pulling the toy off me and kneeling on the bed.

            "I'm tired," I yawn as he grips my wrists, pinning them to the bedspread and starting with an upside down kiss. He stops and just gazes down at me. A drop of water from his hair hits me in the middle of the forehead and I blink. He maneuvers to a sitting positing, cradling my head atop his ankles.

            "Did you really mean it earlier?" he asks seriously, pushing his hands slowly under the loose t-shirt I'm wearing to massage my shoulders.

            "Do you want to have a baby? A boy?"

I can hear all the hope in his voice, and as I stare into his eyes upside down, I can still see the way they're open wide and excitedly.

            "I want you to want this just as much as I do," he adds, massaging a bit harder into my shoulders and clavicle. I'm _not_ sure deep down. What I am sure of is that I want to make him happy.

            "I thought about what you said before, and you were right, what if we get another girl? Would you be willing to keep trying until we have a boy?" he asks. I sit up to face him.

            "How much can we afford?" I ask, cocking a brow. He smiles and pulls me into his lap so I straddle him.

            "Maybe I was being a little extreme…if one more time isn't the charm, then that’s okay."

I grasp his shoulders and nod.

            "We don't have to start right away. Maybe we should wait until we finish this film within the next two months or so. You shouldn't be stressed out if we're really going to do this."

I rest my head on his shoulder.

            "And maybe next spring we can finally get married. Maybe we should do that _first_ , and then try."

            I pop my head up to see whether he's serious.

            "I'm thinking the weather is best in the middle of spring, and I'd hate for it to rain all over your dress."

            "Jake?"

            "Will you marry me?"

I can barely breathe as I clutch his shoulders.

            "Jake…"

            "I _want_ you to be mine forever. I want to watch our girls graduate from high school, then college, become famous actresses," he starts. I laugh, pressing my face shyly into his neck.

            "I want us to become grandparents, and hopefully great grandparents, if the universe permits us to live that long." He finally laughs. I face him again.

            "Will you marry me, Mira?"

I respond by kissing him like I've never kissed him before. And then I plaster my forehead to his.

            "Yes…"

There hadn't been so much heat between us in a while as there is now, and the whole world is drowned out and replaced only by Jake in my senses, my nails clawing into his back and the sounds of his labored breath pooling in my ears, the euphoria all of my body with every desperate thrust…

 

            Christmas and the new year feel like they're going to be a new life. The first day of the new year, Gabrielle takes her first steps and walks right up to Jake. We start talking about what we'll eat, what songs we'll play, who we'll invite to our wedding and it's all like a blissful dream. The doctor tells me, to my surprise, that it might be difficult for me to get pregnant again, seeing as I'd switched to a higher dose pill after my last pregnancy. But Jake doesn’t seem at all fazed by this; we'd had three children _without_ even trying. Why couldn't a fourth be possible? In February, we are nearing the end of filming and Jake had even planned some surprise for Valentine's Day, something we hadn't been able to celebrate together in three years. We had always been in different places with work, and he'd meant to make it memorable.

            One morning in early March, I wake up alone at home. The filming had just been finished the previous week, and the director I'm working with only needs me now to make some edits, re-evaluate scenes that may or may not need to be cut, but Jake is still needed full-time. I didn't have to wake up at the crack of dawn to drive with him to the set. I get myself ready and then the girls. I'm taking them to school before making my way to work. When they're all dropped off, I find myself in a nearly deserted set, as everything is finished for the most part. I had texted Jake half an hour ago, just curious whether he was with the director or elsewhere. He has yet to answer. I can hear Carrie, the makeup artist, on the phone in the makeup room. I wonder what she's still doing here. Filming wrapped up the previous week.

            "I _know_ it's wrong," she says angrily, and I slow down, wondering whether I should turn around and leave. The door is open crack, however, and I think to go and ask her why she sounds so upset. I stop reaching for the knob and just listen.

            "He's going to marry his girlfriend—he told me. He doesn't want to believe that it's _his_ …" I start wondering who she's talking about. Against my better judgment, I stand there and listen longer.

            "I am _pregnant_ , Mark. This is _finally happening_ ," she says, and from the sound of her voice, I can tell she's crying, "It's _Jake's_. Remember when we separated, _just_ before I started this—I'm not lying! …This is Jake Gyllenhaal's child. _I know_ he has kids with somebody else—I _know_ …No, can't just walk into my life and claim _anything_. I know it's _not_ yours. The timing... Who do you think you are, Mark?"

            In that moment, it feels as if the wind has been knocked out of me. I start away from the door, not wanting to believe what I've heard. I hurry to the dressing room where Jake had kept his things during filming. I tear through the room and grab everything that is mine, camera lenses, even makeup, and my eyes finally begin to drip, my hands trembling so hard that I have to stop for a moment. I think I'm going to be sick. And then the door opens and Jake saunters in.

            "Hey Mi. I just got back from a coffee run with, uh…Mira?"

I can't see through the tears in my eyes when I turn and face him. He looks at my open bag to see that I've put all of my stuff together.

            "What's going on? What's the matter?" he asks, closing the door and starting towards me. I shake my head, zipping the bag and starting around him. He becomes increasingly concerned, trying to stop me. I feel his hands grip my wrists, and then I just have to close my eyes for a moment.

            "You're _scaring me_ , Mira. What the hell's going on? Are the girls—"

            "They're _fine_ ," I breathe, unable to look at him. He sighs in a bit of relief.

            "What's wrong? …Will you look at me?"

His hands gravitate around and down my back, grip my hips…I start around him. He blocks me again.

            "What's wrong? Please, talk to me. Did you hear anything new from the doctor—?"

I hurry around him and start out of the room, nearly bumping into someone, not bothering to stop and apologize.

            "Excuse me," I hear Jake say calmly behind me. He follows me all the way to my car, calling my name, grabbing at my elbows. I pull my arms out of his grasp and fumble with my keys.

            "You're scaring the shit out of me—Mira— _stop_."

            "Just stay away from me," I say slowly, as calmly as I can. I place my bag in the car and he pulls it right back out of the seat.

            " _No_. Just _talk_ to me. _Talk_ to me, Mira."

I then push past him and let him hold the bag. He drops it as I start to the driver's seat, and stalks me, grabs my arm. I pause and turn only a moment to rip the limb free. Jake doesn't stop trying to stop me, anyway. But I get in the car and start it, not even buckling my seatbelt. I back up and stop abruptly to cause the passenger's side door to close. Jake is calling my name repetitively, his eyes wide and unsure. I drive all the way to where I just came from and pick up my girls. Gemma doesn't stop asking me as I drive us home, why I came to get her and her sisters so early. I just look at her in the rearview mirror, trying not to cry again.

            "We're going on a little trip, baby," I explain.

            "What about daddy?" Piper asks.

            "No, just you girls and me. Daddy's working right now and he can't leave. We're going to take a little trip, okay? …Just us girls."

            My phone starts ringing and I throw it out of my pocket onto the floor. I make it home and set up a movie for the girls to watch in the den while I race up the stairs, hands still shaking, to pack their clothes. I shove more than I fold and bring the bags to the bottom of the stairs. I don't want to believe what I had heard that woman saying, but something feels so real about it that I can't stop. I break down and just start crying my eyes out while I'm trying to fill my own suitcase. I get myself up and drag it to the car, followed by one of the big ones, into which I had thrown a random array of Gemma and Piper's clothes. I haven't packed as much for Gabrielle, but it's fine. As soon as I get out of here, I plan to buy her everything she needs. I can only drag one suitcase at a time. I shove Gemma and Piper's clothes into the trunk and then I tell the two to follow me to the car, carrying Gabrielle to put them all in their seats. My phone begins ringing again on the floor of the car.

            "Mommy, your phone is still—"

            "I know!" I snap at Gemma. She frowns and slowly begins to cry. I snap her seatbelt on.

            "I'm sorry, baby," I say hastily, drying her tears, "I'm _so_ sorry, mommy's just in a hurry. We're gonna have a lot of fun, okay? Just the four of us."

            "Okay," she says sadly, sniffling. I kiss her forehead a long moment until she stops, feeling Piper's hand play through my hair and tuck it delicately behind my ear from where she's sitting. I kiss her next, followed by Gabby, who's too busy sucking her pacifier and falling asleep to care. I open the passenger's side door to pick up my phone. Jake has called me three times, and now there are missed calls from the director. I sigh and shake my head, closing the door and hurrying back into the house. I pause and go back to tell Gemma and Piper to stay seated while I get the last suitcase. I hurry up the stairs and into the house. I snatch the last suitcase and when I make my way down the front steps, Jake's car is pulling into the driveway. I start crying again, unable to stop. I trip and fall and Jake steps out of his car without even pulling all the way up into the driveway. He's doesn't even turn off his car or shut the door before starting towards me swiftly, and I get up. He starts running.

            "Mira? Mira, what are you doing?" he asks, and I can already hear the guilt in his voice.

            "Mira—stop."

He makes it to me before I can throw the suitcase into the back seat, wrapping his arms full around me to physically stop me. I scream, and then all three girls' cries meet my ears through the open trunk door. Jake tackles me to the ground.

            "What the hell are you doing?" he asks, his eyes filling with tears.

            "You _bastard_! How could you _do this to us_?!"

            "What were you doing?!"he yells.

            "Get the _fuck_ off me!"

I slap at his face until he stops trying to pin me to the lawn.

            "No, no, no," he says, shaking his head, "Where are you taking my kids?" He asks.

            "I _hate_ you. I never want to see you again," I state, standing up. The pain spreads across his face.

            "You got her _pregnant_ —did you know that?"

His eyes widen.

            "Mira…let me—"

And I slap him so hard that it hurts my hand, and I have to recoil a moment.

            "Did she tell you? Carrie! The fucking _makeup_ artist, Jacob?!"

He had kept his face in the direction where my hand had sent it, closed his eyes tightly.

            "What do you have to say for yourself?"

He looks at me and I slap him again. The car door opens and the girls' crying intensifies. Jake turns around to see Gemma trying to get out of the car.

            "Don't you _dare_ deny it—I _know_ what I heard—stay in the car, Gemma!" I shout. She pauses, but doesn't stop crying.

            "Don't do this. You _can't_ do this—"

            "Watch me, _Jacob_! I promise, you will _never_ see these girls again."

He grabs my waist and stops me. I close my eyes a moment, cringing deeply.

            "You _can't_ take my children," he barks.

            "Don't _ever_ touch me again," I retort, struggling with his hands. He doesn't let go, and I am reduced to a sobbing wreck against his chest. Somehow, I am transitioned to the porch steps where I sit and calm down.

            "Unpack the car…put the girls in their rooms…let me explain," he says calmly.

            "What the _fuck_ is there to explain? …You broke my heart."

            "Just let me explain. You can't take them away from me," he says, glancing back at my car. While I unpack the car, Jake takes the girls into the house and puts them in their rooms after calming them down. I only leave the suitcases by the door. Jacob asks me to sit down.

            "I _don't_ want to sit down. _I_ want to know why you did this to us," I state, crossing my arms. He sighs and walks into the den. I only follow and keep my distance. When he tries to get closer, reaches for my shoulder, I shake my head and extend a hand warningly.

            "Mira, sit down, please," he says calmly, looking sorry. When I don't move, he approaches and I slap him again. I just couldn't resist.

            "I can't even _look_ at you right now!"

He gazes out the window a moment, in an attempt to maintain his calm demeanor, and bites his bottom lip before looking at me patiently.

            "Keep your voice down. You're going to scare the girls, and I _barely_ got them to stop crying."

He goes to put his hands on my waist and I slap him again.

            " _Don't_ do that again," he says firmly, gripping both my wrists and bringing me to a seated position on the couch. I can tell that Jake knows he deserved it the first time I hit him outside, and the second, maybe even the third, but he wasn't going to take anymore. I wipe my eyes angrily. He kneels in front of me.

            "I didn't…I didn't mean for this to happen. It was only _once_ —"

            "So I guess that excuses you. I guess that makes it okay," I interrupt furiously.

            "Things were really complicated between us—you _know_ that they were. It happened just once, when we started working on this film together…Mira, I'm _not_ proud of it."

The more he explains, the more I cry. He looks like he'll cry, too, when I glance at his face only a second. He even wipes my tears as I continue to turn my head away angrily, until I just give in and stare him in the eyes and glare, demanding an explanation.

            "I…knew Carrie from a previous film. She was _just_ a friend."

            "So what the fuck happened, Jacob?"

            "…"

            " _Tell me_! I deserve to know."

            "…She was trying to have kids with her husband, and they reached a standstill, they decided to get divorced…something was wrong with him, and something was wrong with her, I felt _bad_ for her. She just kept _talking_ to me about…her son—she wanted a son. She kept talking to me every day that she did my makeup, while you worked with the director…and I was just trying to be sympathetic…and I slipped, just _once_ , a week after we started filming."

            "Oh my god," I breathe in disbelief, covering my eyes, my stomach twisting into nauseated knots.

            "Mira, it was a _mistake_. I even told her right after it happened. I told her it would not happen again. I wasn't interested in being with her—it was just a sympathy fuck—"

            "Jacob—"

            "And I was…" he swallows hard, frantically searching for the right words, " _disgusted_ with myself. I could _barely_ face you—"

            "You have a _family_. What were you even _thinking_?" I choke.

            "I didn't think this would happen. She didn't think so either."

            "…I went in on set today, and I _heard_ her talking on the phone. I think she wants to keep it. Congratulations…you're going to be a father, again," I say with absolute insincerity. I start standing up, but he grabs onto me, begging for forgiveness, telling me how much I mean to him, telling me that it was an accident, the biggest mistake he's ever made. I beat about his head until I just sink there in his grasp, crying. I hear someone starting into the room.

            "Daddy?" Gemma asks, peeking in with wet eyes. Jake looks over at her.

            "Go back to your room, baby girl," he says gently.

            "Daddy?" she says again, crying at the sight of us.

            "Gemma, no," I breathe, standing up. Jake releases me and I let him kneel there on the floor, disgraced, as I go to pick Gemma up. She asks me why I had hit daddy and why we're both crying, and it tears my heart to shreds as I carry her back upstairs. I tell her that something has happened, something she, nor her sisters need to worry about, and that her father and I are just very upset. Of course she doesn't understand as I sit her in the chair, the same one where Jake had done her hair months ago and told her that he was proud of her. She starts wiping my eyes, which only makes me cry harder. I kiss her on the cheek and tell her to stay with her sister in her room. Piper is sitting in bed, staring over at me, crying and calling for her dad. I tell them I'll be right back before closing the door. Gabrielle in her crib merely sits there and watches me as I pass her bedroom, unaware of the disaster unfolding. Jake is already waiting at the bottom of the stairs when I start down. I pause at the landing, looking at the man with a hatred for him I never thought possible.

            "Please…don't take my kids away from me. I'll go, if you want me to go, but _please_."

            "Then get the hell out. I can't even look at you," I respond calmly; now I'm too drained to scream.

            "Mira, I love you…That _hasn't_ changed."

I just close my eyes and turn my head, and wait until I hear him walk away and close the door.

 

            We haven't really resolved the problem a week after the explosion. I tough it out and finish working with the director on the film, keeping my distance from Jake as much as possible. It kills me for his glance to land on me and stay there when I cannot avoid him. It even physically pains me to see Jake on screen. We had lied and said there was some sort of family emergency going on that day that I didn't come in to work and Jake left unexpectedly. He goes to the movie's premiere and I refuse. He stays at a hotel or friend's, I don't care enough to ask, until further notice. The girls ask about him, and I tell them he's working, like he often does, and can't come home. I refuse to speak to him until he's standing at the doorstep, ringing the bell until it drives me insane.

            "I told her I want _nothing_ to do with it," he says. I unlock the front door and close it behind me, so that the girls definitely can't hear that he's there.

            "So?" I shrug carelessly.

He sighs and starts pacing on the porch.

            "She told me she's going to keep it…because she's been trying to do this for two years now. She's not going to terminate."

I scoff.

            "Mira, I'm _sorry_. I tried to convince her not to keep it, because I'm not going to be with her. I don't _want_ to be with her."

            "Then why'd you fuck her? Huh?"

He looks away from me, frustrated, shaking his head.

            "In _all_ of the time that I've loved you, it was just that _once_ that I strayed. I swear to God…Please don't tear our family apart because I made _one_ stupid mistake—"

            "It _was_ stupid," I interrupt. He ignores this.

            "I would _die_ for those girls—for you. You can't _take_ them away from me."

            "Who would _care_ , Jake? We're not married, you don't really have custody over them—"

            "Don't _even_ —"

            "Don't what?! Consider taking care of my girls because their father is irresponsible? _I'm the one_ …who has been raising them all this time. You missed _so_ much," I admit, my eyes tearing up, "You have _no idea_ , Jake. You haven't spent… _a quarter_ of the time with those girls that I have. You don't _know_ them—"

            "How can you say that?" he asks, and then I can see that I've finally really hurt him with my words. His eyes glisten.

            "How could you do that to me? You can't stop me from seeing them, even if we can't work this out. I _will_ be in their lives, and I want to be in _yours_ , and you're not going to stop me. I'm trying to reason with you, Mi. Just tell me what you _need me to do_ , and I'll do it."

            "I wanted to _marry_ you—"

            "Mira, don't," he says desperately. I start to take the engagement ring (which he'd finally given to me on Valentine's Day) off my finger. He's begging me to stop, and I have to close my eyes because if I keep looking at him, I won't be able to continue.

            "Baby," he breathes.

            "It's not going to work, Jacob. As much as I am _still_ in love with you, even after what you did, I cannot marry you while you are the father of someone else's child." I inhale before bringing myself to look at him again.

            "Think about what you're doing," he says slowly, approaching me. I'm simply holding the ring in the palm of my hand, waiting for him to take it back. I close my eyes and he grabs onto me, pressing his forehead to mine. I don't even try to shove him away, though part of me really wants to.

            "Do not do this to us. I don't expect you to forgive me just yet…but think about those girls and how much they're going to _need_ their father. Why would you take that away from them?"

            My eyes widen. It's as if I haven't even been thinking. Jake was a good father, as little as I wanted to admit it through my anger. It would have been selfish of me to take him away from them. I know that he's right.

            "What have I done?" he whispers. I just cry and hold him back, pushing the heels of my palms deeper into his chest, shaking my head, and we stand there in the spring air, Saturday afternoon, broken. He manages to grab a hold of me, nonetheless. After a while, I back up.

            "You're right. I can't find it in my heart to forgive you right now. And I'm not sure _if_ I will be able to."

He finally takes the ring out of my hand with a pained expression on his face before pocketing it, and turning to pace on the porch, pushing his hands through his hair. I shake my head.

            "I'm sorry, Jake. I just _can't_. I _don't_ trust you right now."

He nods with understanding, eyes closed a moment upon turning around.

            "Jake—"

            "If you did this to me…I wouldn't trust you, either. You have every right," he says calmly. I sigh.

            "But I'm not going to deprive them, or you. I may be angry, but I'm not a monster," I explain. He looks down at me gratefully.

            "Will you let me see them? Please? It's been almost a month."

I stand there debating.

            "Mira, please. Just let me say hello to my kids, talk to them, and then I'll go—I promise."

I start to cry.

            "I've been thinking _so hard_ about this…I just can't figure out _why_ you did this to me. I have _never_ cheated on you—not even when we were having problems."

            "It was a mistake," he explains for the umpteenth time, clutching my waist. I lean away from his kiss, turn my head so that his lips land on my temple instead. He plants them there, anyway, lingeringly.

            "They're eating lunch," I explain after the awkward embrace. When I let him into the house, I feel like I'm taking a great risk, and I nearly turn around to push him right back out the door. But when I see how happy the girls are to see him, the way that he admires Gabrielle who is now walking and talking more, I know I have to consider forgiving him and moving on with our lives. It had shocked his parents to hear what happened, and I really felt like a fool, but I know I can't live the rest of my life without the feeling of completeness that I get when I'm watching him with our girls.

 

            It had been decided that we were working on it, whatever that meant. It would still take time before I could look at Jake without feeling betrayed. I did, however, take serious time to think about Carrie and her situation. She seemed to understand why Jake wanted nothing further to do with her romantically, but she wasn't going to terminate her pregnancy just because he wouldn't be with her. For Carrie, it wasn't about Jacob, it was about the child. He would be there for her when the child was born and pay support. Neither Jake nor I could really fathom what it would be like to raise a child alone like Carrie planned to do, so I decided to let it be and make peace with it. He promised me he would spend more time being a part of the family, and put his career on hold if it would prove to me how much he still wanted to be in my life and in the girls' lives. I told him not to sacrifice too much. I was working again too, and mainly because of him. I was doing bigger and better things because of who he was and all the connections he had. Despite my anger, I still believed we both deserved the best, and to feel a sense of satisfaction personally.

            He wasn't living at home again just yet; I still couldn't bear to have him really kiss me or touch me at all without getting upset. He seemed to understand. We spoke enough to coordinate with the girls, for the most part. I'd told him I needed more time before we started working on us. In May, I discover that I'm about two months pregnant, and I know that it's Jake's. I couldn't decide in the midst of everything that had just happened whether I wanted to keep it. We hadn't been trying, nor had we really been _not_ trying. I don’t tell anybody. In truth, I hadn't even called my mother and told her everything that happened between us; she thinks that Jake and I are still living the dream, happy.

            Jake and I start really slowly, go on some dates. I even let him kiss me the second day that we spend time together, but I can't bring myself to go any further than this. Carrie is five months along now, and I manage to find out through the grapevine that she's having a boy. A boy. What Jake always wanted. He doesn't say anything about her, and when I ask, he tells me he doesn't care at all about that. It starts to show that he truly believes he'd made a mistake with that woman, and he just cries, telling me how sorry he is, that his love for me had been there the entire time. I am genuinely moved, but I can't allow him to move back in until I've stopped being angry. Perhaps I'm one to hold grudges.

           

            Gemma's birthday comes in June, on a day where Jake is taking the girls while I go to do some work photographing for a movie in the city. I hate having to work on my daughter's birthday, but this film is big and it's a great break for my blooming career. I'd promised Gemma we would make the best out of a party together at home that afternoon, even daddy would be there. By four in the afternoon, I'm no longer needed for the day, so I take off. Little did I know, Jake had an impromptu interview with a director that day, and let Carrie watch the girls while he left last minute. Little did I know, no one else was apparently available, but Carrie was on maternity leave, so she agreed to watch the kids for him, just for a little while. And I had no idea that she was driving my daughters into town for Gemma's birthday, to get her a surprise. As I drove my car home, thinking about finally letting Jake move back in, telling him about the pregnancy I couldn't hide forever, I had no idea that my angels were about to become true angels. I couldn't be there to brace them against my body, even with their seatbelts snapped. Jake couldn't be there to put a barrier between them and the afterlife, and he had no idea they'd be watching over him by the time he walked out of a studio downtown, knowing he'd be starring in a new film with a director he admired.

            I get home and prepare myself to call him and tell him that it's time to talk, that I am ready for him to come home, I'm ready to start over, that I forgive him, and that we might soon be having the little boy he's dreamed of for so long. But before I can dial his number, my phone starts to ring and when I recognize Jake's number, I pick up.

            "Jake, I—"

            "Mira," he says, interrupting me, his voice shaking. I pause.

            "Jake? What's wrong…? _Jacob?_ "

            "Where are you?" he asks, seeming to be fighting to keep his voice calm.

            "I just got home…why? You sound upset."

            "…I need you to come to the hospital," he says, telling me exactly which one.

            "Is something wrong with Carrie?"

            "No—" he cuts himself off and I hear him breathe heavily on the other line.

            "Just…you need to come right now," he says, and now I'm scared.

            "Jake, are the girls okay? Let me talk to them," I say hastily. I can tell that he's crying now on the other end.

            " _Jake_. You're scaring me."

            "I—need—you—to—come…to—the—hospital—right—now," he enunciates desperately.

            "Put Gemma on the phone, Jake. Let me talk to Piper, Gabrielle—just give one of them the phone!" I'm starting to panic.

            "I…I can't," he says, struggling to keep a straight voice. And then I just drop the phone and rush out to my car and drive to the hospital, running through red lights, getting honked at, nearly colliding with a UPS truck on my way. When I get to the hospital, I rush through the doors and ask for all three of my daughters, trying to keep calm as I give the receptionist the names. I am led to a room where Jake is standing, looking at someone in a bed. I can barely recognize Carrie's face, and it looks like she's not conscious. Though I hadn't seen her since working on the film with Jake, I immediately notice that she's no longer pregnant.

            "…Where are the girls?"

Jake turns to me and I can see that he's _completely_ destroyed. The sight of him alone scares me to a point where I can't breathe for a number of seconds. I _know_ , just by looking at Jake, that it isn't Carrie he's destroyed over.

            "Jake, where are they?!" I ask, my hands trembling.

            "She took them out…I don't know why. There was an accident," he struggles to say. I grab his shoulders.

            " _Why were they with her_? You were watching them—"

            "I had to—I had to drop them with somebody. I had an interview last minute. I _just_ told her to watch them," he explains, his voice a weeping mess.

            "Is this the mother?" A stranger's voice greets me, hesitantly, sympathetically. A doctor leads Jake and I out of the room, but to my dismay, she doesn't lead me to a hospital room where my children are severely injured. Even that would have put me at just a bit of ease. When I am standing there looking at all three girls on cold metal tables, my knees give way and I just fall, and somebody catches me. I don't even notice Jake clutching me, crying with a pain that hurts my ears, because the shock is too much. I keep denying it, get up and look at each damaged face, clutch each white, lifeless hand, and I vomit.

            "This is your fault…This is _your fault_ , Jacob," and my voice trembles so much that I don't know how he can even understand me. I had never hit him as hard as I did then, and he just took it, almost like he _wanted_ it. I couldn't even feel what I was doing, I was so furious. He couldn't even speak…


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was really difficult to figure out how to end this, but I just did it anyway.

**There is so much muttering that I can't tell what's going on.** It isn't until I recognize Jake's voice that I become fully conscious. I see white sheets and I'm in some unfamiliar place. I'm finally able to focus on a face, just one face. It's Jake's eyes that I notice smiling and dripping. Somebody removes an I.V. from my arm. I start to cry hysterically, panting and unable to catch a breath. Jake is shushing me, telling me to calm down. Finally I can formulate some words. And then I notice Gemma asleep on a little couch under a nearby window, and my heart stops racing just a little bit.

            "You're alright. You're alright, Mi," Jake says.

            "Where's—where's the baby?" I breathe.

            "With my sister," he grins, kissing my head over and over again. I feel a strange ache in my whole body, as if I have been lying in the same position for very long hours, maybe even days.

            "Where's _Piper_?" I cry desperately. Jake looks at me with extreme concern then.

            "She's with my sister, and my parents. They're both _fine_ ," he reassures.

            "What? What? No—they’re _not_. Carrie—the girls died," I weep. He shushes me again as Gemma begins stirring where she's wrapped up in Jake's gray winter coat. It looks funny on her; she's still so tiny.

            "What? Carrie _who_? What are you saying? Calm down, Mira. Everything's fine—I promise. You've been unconscious for _three weeks_ and you're just waking up now," he explains, holding me down when I try to get out of bed. Somebody is rubbing my shoulder with an alcohol wipe. I feel a pin prick and flinch.

            "Just so she can calm down before she hurts herself," the nurse whispers, not wanting to wake Gemma up. I struggle to get up and look at Gemma for only a moment more.

            "Lie down. Everything's okay," Jake says softly. I look around the room. I'm in a hospital. I have no idea what's going on.

            "The day we came home from the carnival, do you remember that?" Jake asks me softly, caressing my hair. I start to feel a lot calmer. Whatever the nurse had given me is working. I look at him. He had gotten a haircut. It wasn't quite like this the last time I remember seeing him.

            "Remember, we went the day after Halloween, when I came home? You fell asleep that night and the next day, I couldn't wake you up," he explains calmly. And slowly I begin to realize that all of the things that happened since that day weren't real; Carrie never existed, there was no accident, we weren't working on some film together, I had yet to watch Gabrielle take her first steps…

            "You were bitten by a spider in the house. Remember, you told me about those spiders?"

His voice is a comforting dream. He reaches for a tissue, sits at the bedside, and wipes my eyes.

            "We moved out once the doctors understood what happened. It was some spider venom…It put you in a coma, Mira. We weren't sure you were going to wake up…Just a few days ago, you started mumbling. You were trying to wake up," he says. I sigh in relief.

            "So Carrie's okay?" I ask, closing my eyes. Jake laughs.

            "What are you _talking_ about? The movie?"

I swallow hard and when I look at him again, he's just smiling.

            "Are the girls okay?" I ask seriously, "Just _tell me_ they're okay," I beg, squeezing his arm. He clasps my hand.

            "I promise you, they are fine. Now stop scaring me," he says just as seriously. I am relieved.

            "And we weren't breaking up?" I add, my eyes watering again.

            "Mira, you were in a coma."

I sigh repeatedly in relief. I feel Jake's lips on my forehead. Gemma sighs on the little couch nearby. Jake pauses to look over at her. She continues sleeping.

            "Gem's been having nightmares ever since you were hospitalized. She got worse the second week…I was…losing hope. She refused to go to bed last night. I've been carrying her around all day," he says before kissing my forehead again.

            "You're okay. Just relax." And I do.

            "…Look at you. All brown and blue," I say tiredly, reaching for his hair, but only making it to his cheek, feeling a heaviness in my eyelids that seems to come and go. Jake smiles without teeth, still clutching my hand. His eyes are brighter than I've seen in a long time. I sit up on my side and gaze past him at our oldest daughter. She had only stirred momentarily as I was coming back to reality. My eyes begin to water again in recollection of the alternate reality I had just been living.

            "Hey," Jake says softly, and I feel his thumb mop a tear off my cheek, "What's the matter?" He's speaking so quietly and gently, almost as if he's afraid he'll frighten me, but I know it's partly because he doesn't want to wake Gemma. I sit up and am weak when I try to get out of bed. Jake forces me to sit back down, and I just keep my sight on the girl.

            "Just let me hold her, Jacob—let me hold her," I breathe weakly.

            "Shh. Just sit down. Lie down. You need to get stronger before you start rushing all over the place…there'll be plenty of time to hold her when she wakes up—I promise."

            "Let me hold my baby," I choke. I can still picture her there on a cold metal table protruding from a matching drawer of bodies, blue and lifeless, skull bruised and broken in places, bloodied, almost unrecognizable, in ways that no one should ever have to see anybody they love more than life itself. Jake's grip is stronger than my will to get up and walk over to the couch where Gemma is sleeping. I am hungry, and I notice that pain at last. I don't remember what the last thing I ate was, but I know it must have been the night this all started and I fell ill. Jake's nose is pressed against my cheek where I'm now saddled across his lap, his left arm securely holding my legs. They've gotten smaller, weaker. I feel lighter. I can't take my eyes away from my daughter, relaxing only an iota each and every time I see her shoulder lift with an inhale.

            "She wasn't feeling well yesterday so I let her stay home from school. And then she wouldn't go to bed last night. She needs to sleep. She's going to be _so_ happy when she wakes up to see that you're okay," Jake says, kissing my cheek. When I meet his gaze, there's this terrified concerned look on his face. He knows that something happened to upset me, and he has no idea just how _much_. It had all been _so_ vivid that I hadn't stopped to really wonder whether I was dreaming. I really believed I had lost my children. I really believed that Jake and I had fallen apart. It continues to subside gradually, but I find myself simply crying quietly and uncontrollably in Jake's grasp. He doesn't ask me what's wrong anymore, he just holds on tighter. We sit there together for a while before somebody brings me something to eat. I have to pace myself so that I don't choke, I'm so hungry. Feeding tubes didn't really leave you feeling full.

            Jake sat on the small couch beside Gemma, watching over her, gazing over at me every now and again. I watch him pull some hair out of Gemma's eye and carefully tuck it behind her ear. Her face is squashed up against the sleeve of his coat in such an adorable way that I can't help but stare. I have never been happier in my life just to know that she's okay, that my daughters are all okay. Nothing has ever made me more happy than to sit there, weak as I am, and see that not much has changed since I thought it was all over for Jake and I. After I finish eating, I finally notice that there are earphones in Gemma's ears. I can tell from where I'm sitting that they're mine and they're connected to my phone. I grin.

           "What's she listening to?" I ask Jake. He grins.

            "That Satie music you're always playing when you cook in the kitchen…She thought if you could hear it, you would wake up. The other day we came to visit, I let her put it on for you, and when I came back later that night, you started mumbling." An eerie feeling overcomes me as I watch Gemma sleep.

           "She was listening to it when we came in and fell asleep, _finally_. She had been awake for just about a day," Jake explains, looking down at her. He'd taken off her shoes and pulled her feet up on the couch, hiding them under his gray coat.

            "I swear, she's a genius, Mi..."

           "What day is it?"

            "November twenty-sixth. Twenty-four days," he says, answering my unspoken question. This is how many days of reality I missed. The doctor finally comes in and tells me she wants to do some more blood work before I leave, to make sure everything is okay now. She tells Jake and I that we're lucky he brought me to the hospital when he did, otherwise I may not have regained consciousness. My heart jumps and he looks beside himself with relief, glancing back at Gemma with wide eyes for a moment.

 

            Gemma had missed more sleep than I realized. Jake carries her carefully behind me on our way up to our new house.

            "It's beautiful," I breathe, pausing to take a look at the Victorian, the porch empty and spacious. It had yet to feel like home, and suddenly I miss our old house. As I step over the threshold, Jake's mother's beagle rushes to me curiously. His mother greets me with such a hug that I weep for a moment. I'd never been so happy to see everyone. Jake's father and sister are in the living room when he leads me there. There are many hugs and relieved sighs that I'm here. When Maggie hands me my baby, I'm just crying tears of joy. Gabby smiles and babbles excitedly. I sit in an arm chair that looks brand new, the warmth of her head against my chest a comfort I'd missed. Jake had disappeared upstairs to put Gemma in bed and get Piper, whose footsteps I hear increasing in speed as she calls out to me. She rushes into my arms and I pull her up onto my right knee. I hold and hug, and kiss, and sit there surrounded by love. Jake walks back into the room where I'm sitting with his parents and sister, wrapping my earphones around my phone. He smiles at me holding Gabby and Piper.

            "Just in time for Thanksgiving," his mother chimes. And I'm so thankful to be there.

We talk and catch up and discuss what I have missed in my unconsciousness over the past twenty-four days. Jake and I make plans to meet up with the rest of his family at Maggie's for Thanksgiving the following day, deciding that we'll bring the baked goods. By the time his parents and sister leave, Gabby has fallen asleep against my chest, and Piper is sitting on the couch beside me, leaning her head on my arm and staring at the television.

            "Gemma's still asleep," he says, sitting on the other side of Piper and pulling her into his lap, eying Gabby.

            "Good, I'm going to go put her down," I whisper, carrying the child upstairs. I walk around on my own for a bit before finding the room that I can tell is Gabrielle's. I put her in bed for a nap and make my way back downstairs. Jake had turned the T.V. to some cartoons and Piper drags a pillow from the couch to sit closer, laughing.

            "I should've told you which room is Gabby's," he says.

            "Oh, I found it." I look around the room again. The sun had just set and Jake stands to turn the heat on. He leads me out of the room and we walk down a hall until we get to a kitchen.

            "Peter helped me move out once we found out what happened to you. I took as much as I could from our old house, but a lot of stuff I had to get rid of. We needed to make sure that we weren’t taking any spiders over with us." I shudder.

            "I don't care about the stuff, Jake," I admit genuinely. He turns on a kettle on the stove before fixing his gaze on me looking about the new kitchen.

            "I'm just glad this happened to _me_ and not any of the girls."

He smiles so slightly that I almost can't see it.

            "I thought you weren't going to wake up," he confesses quietly. I lean against the refrigerator, having admired a drawing that Gemma had done; it was Jake's mother's beagle, Jake, me, Piper, Gemma, and Gabby, all standing in front of a house on a green lawn. He wraps his arms around me and presses his forehead to mine.

            "I thought we were going to lose you," he says. I kiss him comfortingly.

            "And every day that the girls asked for you, I didn't know what to say…I just kept telling them that you were very tired, taking a nap, and you would wake up when you were ready to come home."

I smile.

            "Thank you for coming back."

I stare into his gaze and rub my hands up and down his back comfortingly.

            "What happened?" he asks, "When you were starting to wake up, you must have been dreaming…sometimes you'd say my name, or Gemma's. Sometimes you'd say something—almost like you were asking why, why, why? Just over and over and over again. I really didn't want to bring Gemma at that point because it was frightening, but she was losing it not being able to see you every day."

            "I know now that they were just dreams, but…bad things…" my throat catches and my eyes water again. I can't bear to think about what happened, even though I know it wasn't real.

            "…You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to," he says calmly, gripping me tighter. I wipe my eyes. Jake kisses my forehead.

            "Are you sure you're up for Thanksgiving tomorrow? You just look so weak." His eyes had continuously scanned me every so often. I know that I'm weak. I feel that way. I feel fragile.

            "I want to be there. I want to be with everyone," I explain.

            "Okay."

He grabs my waist and stares down at me with a look that I can't quite read. And then he descends to the floor, onto both knees, shakes his head, mutters to himself, and switches to lift the left knee, before rearranging himself yet again to kneel on the left one. I am confused for all of six seconds before I realize what he's doing. My heart races when he grabs my left hand in both of his own.

            "Wait—Jake, don't. Don't ask me to marry you because you thought I would die," I beg, but I can't help smiling through blurred eyes.

            "I promise, this isn't why," he whispers, reaching into his back pocket. My body begins to tremble out of sheer surprise.

            "I've been thinking about this for months now. I wanted to ask you as soon as I came home, but I just wanted it to be perfect."

I laugh nervously and brush my hand over the top of Jake's head. He smiles shyly.

            "I've been thinking about what I wanted to say for so long, but I could never get it _right_. I made up this stupid speech and rewrote it at least fifteen times, but fuck that. I'm just going to let it…come out of me…I love you in so many ways…I've never loved anyone quite the way that I love you. And, Mira, I promise I'm not asking because I was just about to _lose_ you forever, I'm asking because I _want_ you forever, everyday, for as long as I live."

            "Jake, I—"

            "Wait, just...let me finish, please?" I was going to save him the trouble and just say yes. He takes a deep breath through his nose, holds it in his chest a few seconds.

            "Waking up next to you, when I came home, it's almost like I'd forgotten how happy you make me. All that time I spent filming this most recent movie, I was so isolated, just trying to get into the character's mind. It was honestly a relief to come _home_ and just be with you and with our daughters, the dogs…It was a relief to be an ordinary man again. I want life with you. I don't want to forget what you make me feel, who I am because of us and our girls, not when I am starving myself, running for miles every day, spending my time becoming a _completely_ different guy. You're my link to sanity some days, when I feel like I'm losing my mind. I want to know that no matter where I am, I'm not a character all of the time. I am a loved one, a brother, a father, your best friend, and your husband."

            At this point, I'm just standing there, enchanted. He hadn't looked at me quite so deliriously in as long as I can remember. I can't feel the ground beneath my feet anymore. My palms are sweating. I want to pinch myself.

            "I don't know why we wasted so much time getting to this point," Jake adds with a small laugh, "The moment I realized I was in love with you, I knew this is what I wanted. Mira Karan, will you marry me?"

            "Never. I would rather die."

He doesn't even flinch, but instead begins to laugh wholeheartedly, leaning his head against my midriff to regain composure.

            "Jacob, of _course_."

He finally stops laughing enough to speak, slipping a white gold band with a decent-sized trillion cut diamond onto my finger.

            "I know," he says profoundly. And when he stands up to kiss me, even my lips are trembling. I don’t bother to close my eyes. It's just such magic in that moment that I refuse to blink and miss a second of it.

            "Although, that joke was in poor taste, because you almost _did_ die."

            "I'm sorry."

I clutch his face, the chin smooth from a fresh shave.

            "I was _so_ lost without you. I finally realized what a horrible father I've been. Spending so much time alone with the girls made me realize how _much_ you do, and I want you to know how much I love you and appreciate that."

I smooth my thumbs over his thick eyebrows.

            "You're not a horrible father. Why would you even think that?" I ask genuinely.

Jake makes a disgruntled noise and shrugs slightly.

            "I just…I realized I haven't been around as much as I probably should have. And not just to take care of the girls, but to take care of you. It can be stressful…exhausting, handling a four-year-old, a three-year-old, and a baby every day, all day, all the time."

I kiss his cheek lingeringly.

            "If you were ever angry with me for being gone so much working, I get why."

            "Anger is the _last_ thing I'm feeling right now," I add, my lips still dusting his cheek. It enlarges beneath my words as he smiles.

            "Everyone's going to be so excited," I say dreamily, eying the ring. I pause to look at it as Jake begins to kiss my cheeks, my temple, my neck.

            " _Wow_ , this is… _insanely_ beautiful, Jake. It's…It's…" and I just sigh, leaning full back against the refrigerator. I already felt weak from my physical state, but Jake's lips on my clavicle make it even worse.

            "You like it?" He pauses only to ask. And now I'm not sure whether he means the ring or his kisses. I stand taller and wrap my arms around his neck tighter.

            "Just keep doing that," I breathe. His lips grin at my throat. Piper runs into the kitchen, laughing about something she'd just seen on T.V. I feel her hands begin to pry between mine and Jake's legs and he finally stops kissing me to attend to her. She grabs his knee and then mine, talking about SpongeBob and something that made her laugh. I run my fingers through her ponytail. She glances from me to Jake and back and forth again as he entertains her by asking what else she thought was funny. She then lifts both arms up in the air with a smile, turning to Jake.

            "Wanna play super daddy," she demands, jumping excitedly. Jake laughs but lowers himself so that he can pick her up.

            "See what I mean?" he says sarcastically, making his way back to a standing position while securing the girl above his head with both hands. After flying Piper around the house until she's laughing so hard that she can't breathe, Jake makes his way back into the kitchen as I finish putting together two mugs of tea.

            "Let me make dinner, okay? You just relax," he says, pulling me into a chair at the table. I watch him start, unable to believe how amazing things are now. It wasn’t that Jake never cooked, I just liked doing it. I couldn't wait for Gemma to wake up and see that I was fine.

            "I'm going to go take a shower," I announce, having finished half my tea. I get up to pause and kiss Jake at the stove before he moves to pour some bowtie pasta into a boiling pot. I can't help thinking about those dreams, how real they felt. Towards the end, I was pregnant again, and it hadn't left my mind since Jake drove me home from the hospital. When I come across our room, it's neatly put together, new, and I open the closet and drawers to locate my clothes. Jake had arranged things differently from how I used to have them. When I take off my clothes and stand in front of a full-length mirror, I can finally see the gravity of how serious a condition I had been in. I had already lost weight after having Gabby nearly a year ago, and now I'm even smaller, slight, and it scares me for a moment as I walk into the bathroom.

            I think about how happy I felt in that dream, when I was going to call Jake and tell him we might be having a boy at last. I think about how happy he looked when we were in the parking lot after buying gifts for the girls. Though it wasn't real, I felt the urge to make it so. When I step out of the shower, Jake is already making his way into the bathroom, which surprises me for a moment. I can smell what he'd been cooking, wafting throughout the house.

            "I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he says, leaning in the doorway and crossing his arms. I grin. My face is somewhat gaunt and ghostly when I look at it in the mirror.

            "I'm fine. Is Gem awake yet?"

            "No, but she should be in a bit, so we can eat dinner."

I sigh and wipe my face with wet hands.

            "Are you okay?" he asks, as if I hadn't already answered the question.

            "It's just that what I was dreaming about was _so real_ …I can't even _say_ what happened towards the end, though. It scared me shitless…but there were parts where…" I just smile. Jake makes his way toward me.

            "We were going to have another baby...I don't know, I think it was a boy."

            "Really?" he grins with interest. I pause to look up into his hopeful eyes.

            "If you still want to, I'm ready to try," I confess. He opens his mouth to speak but seems to be at a loss for words. His warm hands clutch my wrists and he gets closer to me, his eyes darting excitedly back and forth and all over my face, as if he's trying to tell whether I'm lying.

            "Only if it's what _you_ want," he whispers. I nod without hesitation and he carries me with joy out of the bathroom, and I can't stop laughing. He spins me around and my towel just falls off, and we keep laughing. I secure my legs around his waist and rest my head on his shoulder. He let me down so I could finish drying off and get dressed.

            "Honey…you lost a little weight," he says with concern.

            "I noticed. I'm gonna start working on that tonight."

Honestly, I kind of scared myself after taking my clothes off and looking in the mirror. I can feel Jake's eyes still lingering on me. I make it to the dresser and pull out some comfortable clothes to wear. Jake is still watching me when I turn around. I laugh.

            "What are you staring at?" I ask.

            "My wife," he says in a daze. My heart races.

            "You're gonna burn what you're cooking, Jake. Do you hear the timer?" I grin, starting out of the room. He laughs and follows me.

            "No I won't. I know how to cook, Mi."

            "Mommy?" I hear a mumble, and when I pause at the top of the stairs, Gemma starts out of her room.

            "Mommy?!" She pauses in her bedroom door. Jake takes a few steps back, turning on the light in the hall so she can see better. She's squinting and rubbing her eyes, but then I call her name and she rushes over to me. The happiness on his face when I pick her up is hard to look away from, but as Gemma clings to me, I start crying again, all tears of joy.

            "I didn't think you would ever wake up," she admits wearily.

            "I had to see my girls again. Of course I was gonna wake up, baby."

            "Mommy, I _missed you_. Why'd you sleep _so long_?" Gemma asks. I kiss up her face, not wanting to let go. Her small hands travel through my wet hair.

            "Why are you crying, mommy?" she asks me.

            "'Cause I'm so happy to see you, my Gem."

She kisses my cheek and smiles.

            "I told you mommy was going to come home," Jake says, watching dreamily.

            "Only 'cause I put the music on," Gemma says, claiming credit. Jake laughs.

            "Okay, baby girl," he says.

We start down the stairs together while Jake goes to get Gabby ready for dinner. I eat until I'm full and we watch a cartoon movie on T.V. until it's time for the girls to go to bed. When I stand in their doorways, watching them slumber, I feel complete again. Jake snakes his arms around me.

            "Let's go to bed," he whispers, closing Piper's door most of the way, leaving it open a crack for the hallway light.

            "Still afraid of the dark, then," I respond. Jake's hand clutching mine is just about desperate, until we're standing in our room. He closes the door, again leaving a minor crack there, in case any of the girls woke up crying.

            "They've missed you _so_ much," he says, bringing me to sit on the bed. We sit face to face, holding hands. He pushes his hands through my hair.

            "I missed you, too…I thought I was never going to see you again," he says with some difficulty.

            "When should we get married? I don't want to wait too long. I can't wait any longer."

I laugh through my nose.

            "Well, at least wait until spring. Do you think you can make it that long? I really don't want a cold wedding."

            "As long as it happens before I get any new roles. I don't want to be thinking about that on our honeymoon. I already asked your mom if she'd watch the girls for us while we're gone. I was thinking it would be a good chance for her to get to spend time with them, since she hasn't really seen them much."

            "Wait, when did you do that?"

            "A few hours ago."

He _did_ say he couldn't wait.

            "Your mom was in town last week to see you. She just left, actually. There was another emergency at home. Your uncle had some kind of temporary amnesia incident—but he's alright. She just called and told me while I was cooking. I would've told you sooner, but you _just_ got home."

And suddenly I feel overwhelmed.

            "…I'm sorry. I should've told you," he says, searching my expression. I shake my head.

            "It's—it's okay. I just didn't know my mother came to see me. How long was she here for?"

            "A few days," he says, stroking my hair. She and my father had been divorced for years now, and he's been living all the way back home in India ever since. I sigh.

            "It's okay. I just wish I could have woken up to tell her I was going to be okay."

            "You want to call her? I mean, _I_ already told her that you just woke up today, but—"

            "Tomorrow. It's late here, so it's late on the West Coast."

I move closer to Jake and kiss him on the cheek, straddling his waist warmly.

            "I missed you so much," he says again, squeezing me. And soon I find myself on my back, huddled under Jake's warmth. I didn't want the kisses to ever stop. His hands travel up my shirt, grip my torso, and I'm still too full to be as comfortable as I want to be beneath his body. But it feels good. Jake pauses kissing at my neck.

            "Your body feels different," he says contemplatively. The blood boils at the surface of my skin. I still feel weak and unfamiliar in my body. Part of it must have been from not being in real motion for so long. Jake continues kissing anyway and I sigh and breathe him in. He moans against my collar bone.

            "I'm too full for this," I admit at last, sitting up, taking his head in my palms. He grins hopefully.

            "I've missed you."

I crawl back to the headboard and take his hand before reaching for the remote control to turn on the television.

            "Just relax with me," I smile. Jake positions himself so that his head rests in my lap and one arm is strewn around my waist. Part of me is actually afraid to go to sleep for fear of not waking up again, fear that I'll slip back into those nightmares.

            "Tell me what you think about our new house," Jake says, and I watch his eyes close.

I gaze about our bedroom.

            "Well, I kind of miss the old one, honestly. In all those crazy dreams, hallucinations—whatever they were—that I was having, we were still living there…"

Jake had turned so that he's looking up at me now.

            "I knew you were dreaming. You kept talking. It started off as a mumble, and most of the time I couldn't tell what you were saying. A nurse told me you were asking about someone named Carrie. What was that about?" he asks, pushing a hand through my hair. And just like that, the floodgates open and I can't stop crying. Jake sits up with some shock, immediately attempting to console. I can't even see. I hadn't stopped struggling with his hands.

            "Just talk to me," he says, finally managing to tackle my arms down. I take in a deep, shaky breath.

            "You…you _cheated_ on me, and the other woman was going to have your son. It was all so real—"

            "Baby, it was just a dream, all of it," he says calmly. I can't look at his face; those second-long moments in my unconscious state felt like legitimate months worth of real time. He kisses my forehead and tells me to look at him. When I finally do, it only hurts a little bit.

            "There is no one else. There will _never_ be anyone else. Do you understand me?"

I nod.

            "Jake," I breathe, "I just wish you knew how real it felt."

He looks at me sadly, releasing my wrists to cup my face.

            "I would never do that to you."

            "…I know."

            "…Did you ever think that I _would_?"

I can't speak.

            "Mira."

            "At times, _yes_. When we were going to break up, years ago, before we had Gemma, I really thought that you stopped caring…and the strange thing is, in the hallucinations, you never stopped caring…You wouldn't give up trying to get me to forgive you. You even promised you would quit working, if it would change my mind."

His eyes are a glazed pool of blue.

            "I'm sorry you had to go through that. I don't want anybody else…Anyone I've ever been with before I met you, all of that means nothing now. I hope you know that."

I nod and wipe my eyes. We lie in each other's arms until Jake starts to get too tired to tell me about anything else that I missed while I was unconscious. Meanwhile, I'm still feeling too scared to try and sleep, even after he comes back from the shower and slips under the quilt, goading me to get in with him and close my eyes. I simply can't bring myself to do it, and he just lies there holding my hand. The T.V. is still on when I wake up to see him looking down at me. I wonder how long he's been watching me. I look past him at the window, where snow is falling quietly. This is an image I want to keep forever in my mind's eye.

            "What time did you go to sleep?" he asks, passing a hand down my arm.

            "I don't know…two? You fell asleep," I explain with an exhausted voice. I can hear the girls laughing down the hall, screeching with joy as they discover that it's like a snow globe outside. Jake smiles.

            "You look tired. Just rest. I'll make the girls breakfast and we can head to Maggie's later tonight."

            "Okay. I'll be up by then."

He kisses my closed mouth before stepping out of bed in flannel pajama pants. He reaches into the closet to pull out a robe before walking out of our room and leaving me to sleep. I stare at the snow falling outside of a round window, and I can hear Jacob talking to the girls until their voices fade as they venture down the stairs, and sleep takes hold of me again. The next time I wake up, Piper is prying my eyes open with her small fingers, straddling me. I start to laugh, Gemma making her way up the bed after her sister. Jake walks in holding Gabby, who seems to be trying to have an intense conversation with him. I can just about make out whole words. I don't remember her talking quite that fully before I went to the hospital. The girls were always ruthless with the way that they woke Jake and I up, but I'm happy just to be there, so I laugh and sit up to hold Piper.

            "Daddy said I could wake you up," she says, grinning up at me. I glance at the clock; it's just quarter past noon.

            "Yeah," I breathe, sitting her in my lap. Jake places Gabby on the bed so she's standing. She bends her knees awkwardly.

            "She's almost ready, I can tell," he says to me. We haven't seen her walk yet, but I know she'll be doing it soon.

            "Let me get ready, girls. Then we can have lunch—oh, I forgot we were bringing the baked goods—"

            "We already made them," Jake interrupts. Gemma nods.

            "I got to pour the cupcakes," she says, clapping her hands. Piper rolls over playfully across my legs.

            "Me too!" she squeals.

            "And Gabby just watched, but I gave her some sprinkles," Gemma adds.

            "Really? I can't wait to see the cupcakes," I say excitedly, slipping out from under the covers, and then I notice the scent of red velvet cake, which had gradually begun to fill the house.

 

            By the time we make it to Jake's sister's, I'm just about ready to believe I'm not still dreaming. At the beginning of dessert, Jake stands up to make an announcement. My heart stops for a second. I hadn't expected him to want to do this so soon. We hadn't even set a date yet for the wedding.

           "As I'm sure you all know, Mira has been in the hospital for the past three weeks. And these past three weeks have been...a testament of my fatherhood, I think. I just wanted to tell you all how _thankful_ I am for your support and your help. I don't think I could have kept up with these three girls to the extent that I was able to without mom and Maggie, thanks for helping me get the girls to school and for babysitting, Peter, my brother, for helping me move out of our old house to keep everyone safe, dad, for helping Pete and I with the houses, and for picking up the phone when I'd call late at night believing Mi wasn't coming back to us...I have learned _so much_ more from you all in the past three weeks about what it means to be a family than I have in my entire life. Thank you." Everyone claps and I stand up to hug Jake. He places his glass down atop the jade tablecloth to wrap both arms around me. I speak into his ear to tell him that I love him.

            "And I was also going to make this _other_ announcement," he begins, gazing at me. I smile. He holds up my left hand. Maggie gasps.

           "Didn't I tell you she'd say yes?" Jacob's father grins. Jake blushes for a moment.

           "So, I've had that ring for _months_ now, and I was trying to think of the _perfect_ way to propose. It wasn't until you woke up yesterday that I realized there would never be a perfect time. This is something I should have asked you the day we met." I'm staring at the twinkle in his eyes. Everybody claps and I'm welcomed to the family. We spend the evening celebrating, until it's time to get home and put the girls to bed.

 

            Jacob walks back into our room with something pink around his wrist. As he closes the door gently, I can finally make out Gemma's pig flashlight. I smile.

            "Why do you have that?" I ask. He laughs, sitting in bed and holding it in both hands.

            "While you were in a coma after we moved here, Gem and Piper, they kept taking turns having nightmares. I would lie down with them until they fell asleep again, if they came to me in the middle of the night. You know, Piper's always easier to get back to sleep. But Gemma, I don't know if it's because she's older, or what. So one night, I found this thing in Gemma's room and when I was putting her to bed, I told her to turn it on if she got scared." I rest my head on his shoulder.

            "She wouldn't let me leave the room with the lights off...so I'd try to wean her off the flashlight gradually. I'd lie there in the dark and every time she would say 'scared', I'd turn it on..." he flicks the switch which causes a blue-tinted light to emanate from the pig's nostrils. I laugh quietly.

            "Until she'd forget about the dark, forget I was even there, forget that you weren't, and fall asleep." Jake smiles, tracing his thumbs over the small porcine object, flicking the light on and off. A tear rolls out of his eye.

            "It was hard...trying to figure out what to say each time they'd ask me, 'When is mommy coming home?'" I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss his temple a long moment.

            "You're an _amazing_ father. More than you know," I explain quietly.

            "I hate to remind you, but I thought about what you told me, those terrible dreams you were having, I _can't imagine_...a world where I'd do that to our family."

           "Like you said, J, they were only dreams," I whisper, caressing his hair calmingly. He places Gemma's piggy flashlight on the nightstand.

            "They are my children...and I'd die before I hurt you like that. I'm sad that you even dreamt that stuff at all." I slip behind Jake to massage his shoulders. He sighs pleasantly a moment, leaning into my touch.

            "I was so relieved when I woke up. Believe me." I plant a kiss in the center of his neck.

           "I know your parents got divorced before you were done being a child. And mine separated fairly recently. But I'm determined not to let that be us." I push my arms around his rib cage and hold on.

            "And even if we ever got tired of each other, I'd never stop being a father to my daughters."

            "All dreams. All over," I breathe. Jake turns around and pulls me to lie down.

            "I am completely yours," Jake declares. I grin.

            "I know." The sound of some late night show in the background gradually fades and I get lost in Jake, and he gets lost in me. It was as if I'd been waiting my entire life to feel his weight, his desperation, his grip, I just take all of it. We turn gradually into a heated pile of sighs. A pressure within me builds like a balloon about to pop. I memorize the length of Jake's spine and rounds of his shoulders with my hands, closing my eyes to see the feeling I can't properly describe. I look a moment later while trying to remember the last time there was this much fire between us. Jake pauses to drown me in kisses and I taste him thoroughly. He secures my thighs and brings me to a sitting splay where I can control the pace of things. I call God a third time and hope she doesn't really hear, sweat developing on my inner thighs, worsening the friction against Jake's skin. His choked groan and breath in my neck are enough to send me over the edge. I catch my breath, leaning on him, and he lies back to admire me, eyes flitting every which way, hands pulling on my waist, my arms, anything within his reach.

            "I hope it is a boy this time," he admits. I smooth his thick eyebrows habitually. He covers my left breast with a palm, and I just laugh and collapse on him. His arms enclose me tightly and I'd never felt so reassured.


End file.
